tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-235964942024-03-07T15:07:34.480-08:00SailRunClimbRideoh yeah, and drink and write and eat and...GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.comBlogger240125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-45677511918252032952013-02-27T10:18:00.001-08:002013-02-27T10:20:13.455-08:00Marina Upgrade Rant<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsddM_JA3QNDYOtmUK2mHkVRr1qPdzk24FeM345AkeN_3ToFxU-OEE5J5pWiaevEoTvpyJJXY5txQUymtLA-GBkCMg3SY_6AyqcRWUCbdCnthKWgKoxififO9H3sapYCyJPzoa/s1600/156464_4924473679693_218258396_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsddM_JA3QNDYOtmUK2mHkVRr1qPdzk24FeM345AkeN_3ToFxU-OEE5J5pWiaevEoTvpyJJXY5txQUymtLA-GBkCMg3SY_6AyqcRWUCbdCnthKWgKoxififO9H3sapYCyJPzoa/s320/156464_4924473679693_218258396_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking into the future at Port of Everett. Empty, rotting docks.</td></tr>
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Eleven years ago I bought my first sailboat. You might remember that 11 years ago things were going pretty well, large scale terrorist attacks aside. The economy was still working, and people had this crazy thing called disposable income. The middle class seemed to exist, even, which is a remarkable thing to consider these days.<br />
<br />
The robust middle class meant that a lot more people did things like buy a boat. And the boats these people bought were relatively affordable and manageable, like the ubiquitous Catalina 30, still the most common sailing vessel in the US. Walk down any public marina dock with 30 foot slips and every third boat will be a Catalina 30, statistically speaking.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yTfKe2953s-CPMkDV9TTwI7lzQ9E8baZ4tJvgFYr103a0IE7rx9K8vEJnqT52pX8PxT8eZzt5jHKggQSGgn1v3pwJrLJ4wyjLGr0bw2X2SJU1s6SDN1_tZwnu_sYpxq4fDxj/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yTfKe2953s-CPMkDV9TTwI7lzQ9E8baZ4tJvgFYr103a0IE7rx9K8vEJnqT52pX8PxT8eZzt5jHKggQSGgn1v3pwJrLJ4wyjLGr0bw2X2SJU1s6SDN1_tZwnu_sYpxq4fDxj/s320/photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every third boat on the dock is a Catalina 30. And likely it hasn't been sailed in years.</td></tr>
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<br />
All of those mid-size sailboats, along with the cabin cruisers and family fishing boats, jammed marinas all throughout the Puget Sound. Waiting lists for moorage were years long in every marina even remotely near the city. People bought cheap boats with transferable moorage just to get a space. It was crazy. So crazy that I found myself with a boat and nowhere to put it. So crazy that after an 8 month wait I finally got notice that a space had opened up in Everett and I had 3 days to put a boat in the slip before I lost my spot on the list. 3 days. In February. 3 cold, short winter days to move a boat from Anacortes to Everett. Adventure ensued. But that's a different story.<br />
<br />
With the marina jam packed and boaters filling waiting lists, the <a href="http://portofeverett4.reachlocal.net/home/index.asp?page=4" target="_blank">Port of Everett</a> embarked on a foolishly ambitious plan to expand their marina (which was already the largest public marina on the west coast). They built a new boat basin for larger yachts, upgraded their boat yard facilities, and laid out plans for a massive retail village and condominium community. They tried to court the wealthy boat owner, and in the process started ignoring the middle class boat owner.<br />
<br />
Then the economy tanked. It took a while to catch up to the boating community, but it did. And when it did, the Catalina 30 owners (and their equivalent) took it in the shorts. That reasonable $300 a month moorage fee was suddenly not so reasonable, especially if you were still paying off the note on the boat itself. When there was still a waiting list, the port aggressively seized and auctioned off derelict and abandoned vessels. There was a period of a year or so where several boats a month were sold at auction, and I suspect some of them were pretty amazing deals. There aren't any auctions these days.<br />
<br />
The port quickly burned through their waiting list. Soon there were a few 25 foot slips available. Then some 28 foot spaces opened up. Then the 30 foot waitlist was down to nothing. Before long, the small to midsize docks were half empty. The well-kept vessels moved to the two desirable docks (which the port remodeled during the boom years as part of their abandoned plan to update the whole marina).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFrAhyFHavj70_gZHtmKVMniiGisAHx9xG4m-cUEbyY-ugbqwWxcFtHxVCxppB4dhHBKDWpTgDRGytPxOORET-czG2b73EWcndeyA4nlcne-9N6uGpvQ4rE3dob7nuKR_U3Jr/s1600/DSC_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFrAhyFHavj70_gZHtmKVMniiGisAHx9xG4m-cUEbyY-ugbqwWxcFtHxVCxppB4dhHBKDWpTgDRGytPxOORET-czG2b73EWcndeyA4nlcne-9N6uGpvQ4rE3dob7nuKR_U3Jr/s320/DSC_0010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rotting, neglected, and soon to be on the bottom of the ocean. Make an offer.</td></tr>
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With no waitlist pressure, the Port of Everett stopped policing derelict vessels. They stopped monitoring seaworthiness and completely abandoned their own rules regarding vessel maintenance. Now every third boat is still a Catalina 30, but every second boat is a rotting, moldy, tattered mess. Moss covers canvas, rotten sails flap in the wind, broken halyards bang and clang on neglected rigs. What was once no doubt a nice little 24 foot Thunderbird has weeds growing off the toe rail like some sort of science experiment. Live-aboards, no doubt pushed out of homes as jobs disappeared, ballooned. And with live-aboards comes junk. A typical live aboard vessel looks like the nautical version of a Dust Bowl family truck, piled high with their worldly possessions as they make the exodus to California. And now the port is stuck. If they evict the rule breakers there is no one in line to take the spot and pay the fee. So as long as you pay your moorage on time every month, it's a free for all. (I suspect with the automatic debit system the port uses to collect moorage fees, a high percentage of the derelict vessel owners don't even know they are still paying.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsYdpWe7PFT6VxoYAf0uPIVFYSusQ4sfaIzXe0DT_WafPBEaKlRdmjfb7-BimcCrYvTStMTbJm_6J60kM0f_5Zv4NN-g20OLUnaclvokVprCQuH6kVMH-o0HZ8tRf_efnzRGvE/s1600/DSC_0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsYdpWe7PFT6VxoYAf0uPIVFYSusQ4sfaIzXe0DT_WafPBEaKlRdmjfb7-BimcCrYvTStMTbJm_6J60kM0f_5Zv4NN-g20OLUnaclvokVprCQuH6kVMH-o0HZ8tRf_efnzRGvE/s320/DSC_0028.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't let the fancy tarp fool you. Under that there is a really shitty boat.</td></tr>
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So when <i>Peponi</i> was ready to splash last fall there were no worries about finding a place to keep her. We had our choice of slips in Everett (and could have put her in Port Townsend, Seattle, Anacortes, or just about anywhere else we wanted). Very few marinas had wait lists anymore, especially not for boats under 30 feet.<br />
<br />
Female offspring and I spent part of an afternoon walking the many docks in Everett looking for a slip that would work. We had a few criteria in mind when we arrived: port tie, east side of a dock, good turning room. Those criteria soon fell away and we were reduced to looking for a dock that wasn't a piece of crap. When that proved impossible, we reduced ourselves to finding a slip with dock neighbors who appeared to actually care for their boats. No luck there either. We settled on a slip that simply had no neighbors, and for our short time in Everett, we had two slips and a finger pier to ourselves.<br />
<br />
Of course the pier itself was uneven and sinking. The concrete surface was cracked and pitted, looking like someone's failed attempt at pouring their own backyard patio with that concrete you get in bags at Home Depot. Most of the lights on the dock were long burned out and never replaced. Moss and mold covered the wooden frames of the dock panels. Bird and dog crap made walking to the boat an adventure.<br />
<br />
Still, I was used to Everett. I have fond memories of having a boat there. All of my boating friends and racing competitors are berthed there. I am think we fully expected the decision to stay there or move to Edmonds, which is far closer to home, would be more difficult. But when we quickly rose to the top of the waitlist in Edmonds, there was no hesitation.<br />
<br />
I went to the <a href="http://www.portofedmonds.org/mar_fac.htm" target="_blank">Port of Edmonds</a> and was shown around the various slips I could choose from. The docks were all floating properly! There weren't any rotting boats! No live-aboards with bicycles and barbeques! The mooring cleats were all properly sized and actually secured to the docks. I snapped this picture upon selecting the slip for <i>Peponi.</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zfLQyCgkyKGnFx7jXM4tJ2Qj_ABJpdWj0kw1HFeR7hTrVal2jjx0inxFxmTS5dGY3sSMWqyT7N78_Hdzw6oClqyN2ic310NqX0iXBxgVoDvRmia1OXValMT4zutbKUQU3GXc/s1600/IMG_2103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zfLQyCgkyKGnFx7jXM4tJ2Qj_ABJpdWj0kw1HFeR7hTrVal2jjx0inxFxmTS5dGY3sSMWqyT7N78_Hdzw6oClqyN2ic310NqX0iXBxgVoDvRmia1OXValMT4zutbKUQU3GXc/s320/IMG_2103.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A proper marina slip.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Of course the boats to either side of us are Catalinas, but that's fine. They are kept up and they even look like they are sailed now and again.<br />
<br />
Then I drove to the Port of Everett marina office to terminate our lease. The nice woman behind the counter asked me why I was leaving.<br />
<br />
"So are you selling your boat or taking it out of the water?" <br />
<br />
"Nope. Moving to another marina."<br />
<br />
"Oh. Which one?"<br />
<br />
"Edmonds."<br />
<br />
Her smile disappeared and she scowled a little.<br />
<br />
"Do you mind if I ask you why you're moving there?"<br />
<br />
<br />
What followed was a series of things she probably didn't want to hear, probably already knew, and probably has no control over. But she asked. So I told her. And I showed her the series of pictures on my phone, including the one of my new berth in Edmonds. She just sighed. It wasn't the first time she'd heard a similar thing, I'm sure.<br />
<br />
I'm not a snob, or maybe I am, and there are definitely benefits to having a boat in a marina like Everett where no one is paying attention to anything - namely you can do anything you want in terms of boat maintenance. I'll miss the boat yard, the marine services (Edmonds has none), the <a href="http://www.scuttlebuttbrewing.com/Site/HOME.html" target="_blank">Scuttlebutt brewery</a>, and I'll especially miss the entertainment of watching crappy boat operators bash into the sand bars and guest floats every May on opening day.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cnvOIQZvrkuXo5R_ivmy4sEuDhHAzMXvzFREhL8DzmfmiiaBstO9O8ZCQMPueh4CQ43QvZUL1juzkc4lHpJQY968UCrsqDL9lV9xVNrpVCzZEOlz4S-RB2Xo_eG_S-tRN4OB/s1600/IMG_2186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cnvOIQZvrkuXo5R_ivmy4sEuDhHAzMXvzFREhL8DzmfmiiaBstO9O8ZCQMPueh4CQ43QvZUL1juzkc4lHpJQY968UCrsqDL9lV9xVNrpVCzZEOlz4S-RB2Xo_eG_S-tRN4OB/s320/IMG_2186.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Motoring out of the Snohomish River, leaving the Port of Everett behind.</td></tr>
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In theory the economy will rebound someday and the middle class will somehow survive whatever the hell is being done to us in Washington D.C. In theory a wait list will emerge again in Everett. But it's hard to imagine they can survive much longer with over 600 vacant slips (out of 2,300 or so) and with so many of the occupied slips housing derelict boats that are one bad hose clamp from the bottom of the ocean. When they should have been contracting and improving services (perhaps even at higher prices) they continued to expand while neglecting the existing infrastructure.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77UE4r8pW6JCQ8QOYo46Ayfbbbw2xqfui0u-ohVtbAKSn-DKohpz1tuAw-PxoNZP9ixEgRTBvFKs3HtsaB0KNIZkixU51ifJkQXVuyNaf0VyGXtzo5El46fwMNvkH0Y7Vb1Q-/s1600/IMG_2189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77UE4r8pW6JCQ8QOYo46Ayfbbbw2xqfui0u-ohVtbAKSn-DKohpz1tuAw-PxoNZP9ixEgRTBvFKs3HtsaB0KNIZkixU51ifJkQXVuyNaf0VyGXtzo5El46fwMNvkH0Y7Vb1Q-/s320/IMG_2189.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peponi in her new home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So the end of this long story is that <i>Peponi</i> is now living in Edmonds, comfortable tucked in between two Catalina 27s, on a dock that is well maintained and clean, with a port staff that actually enforces the rules.<br />
<br />
I can even <a href="http://www.portofedmonds.org/docs/cam/movie.htm" target="_blank">check conditions on the webcam </a>before I head to the boat. <br />
<br />
I am curious to see what happens to all of the Everett waterfront, and I don't envy the job the city and port leaders have ahead of them. From the outside it sure seems like they are sinking, and fast. It's hard to envision all of those empty slips full of boats again, and I can't picture new buildings on the weed-covered land that used to be full of industrial buildings. The most recognizable thing on their waterfront, other than the US Navy aircraft carrier, was the Kimberly Clark paper mill. And even it's gone; a post apocalyptic wasteland has replaced it.<br />
<br />
Not that any of this matters to you. But hey, you read this far...and if you need a place to park a rotting Catalina 30, give Everett a call. They have lots of space.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-31769989435361769872012-11-29T07:31:00.001-08:002012-11-29T07:35:01.720-08:00On Race and Other Things More Trivial<b>No Longer a Marathoner?</b><br />
After seven years of considering myself a marathoner, I might have given it up. I'll probably still run the occasional 26.2, but this fall both the Portland and Seattle Marathon went by on the calendar and I hardly noticed. Pounding the pavement for mile after mile is just losing its appeal. Have I just turned into a trail runner? Should I get rid of all those street shoes? No. No. That would be rash.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Hooked on the Podcast </b><br />
The digital world is paying off for me. Not tethered to the broadcast schedule of radio or television, I can get just about everything I want on demand. No one is airing "Arrested Development" at the moment, but we just watched all three seasons on Netflix. (I still maintain that "Arrested Development" is the best written, best acted, and best produced comedy ever...but I'll save that for the next update, in 8 months).<br />
<br />
More important than on demand television is the world of the podcast. I am hooked. On my runs these days it's all about <i>RadioLab</i> or <i>How Did This Get Made</i>. Sometimes some <i>This American Life</i>. <br />
<br />
The podcast has revolutionized road trips and long runs for me. And once in a while I learn a little something.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Sometimes it is About Race</b><br />
Remember how the election of Barack Obama was supposed to signal a shift in American attitudes about race? How we were now somehow a "post-racial" country? Sorry. White people love to deny their racism ("But I have black friends! How can I be racist?") and after Obama's first election there were a lot of satisfied Caucasians who leaned back in their easy chairs, put their hands behind their heads, and said "there. We fixed racism."<br />
<br />
Of course everyone knows this isn't actually true. There is no doubt that the US has come a long way in terms of race relations, but in a way this makes it even more shameful that we haven't moved even further down the road toward equal treatment and equal opportunity.<br />
<br />
This week, the University of Colorado (otherwise known as the University of California at Boulder) fired its head football coach after two seasons. Football coaches get fired all the time, often at great cost to the university, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/29/sports/ncaafootball/time-runs-out-but-not-the-money-in-college-football-coaches-firings.html?hpw" target="_blank">as this article from the New York Times</a> discusses. So what's at issue here?<br />
<br />
Jon Embree, a Colorado alum and former tight end for the buffaloes, <a href="http://www.colorado.edu/news/releases/2010/12/06/jon-embree-named-colorados-head-football-coach" target="_blank">was announced as the head coach in December 2010</a>. He was given a 5 year contract. At the time of his hiring, Embree was the 4th black head coach in Pac12 history. He was 1 of 5 black head coaches in all of the BCS.This in itself is a problem, given that the vast majority of college football players are black, most often disproportionally represented in terms of the overall demographics of the universities they are recruited to. This means the vast majority of players exiting the program - either to the NFL or to other careers - are African American. So why aren't these players coming back as coaches? Why aren't they working their way up through the coaching ranks at the same rate as white coaches?<br />
<br />
The day of his firing, Embree lamented the lost opportunity. He had been given just two years to salvage a program that everyone admits had been ruined by his predecessor. Could he have turned the program around if given the full five years of his contract? We'll never know. And there is the problem. Embree's biggest worry, he said, was that black coaches don't get second chances. Of the black head coaches who have been fired from major college football, only one has ever been given a second job at another school. That one was Tyrone Willingham, who after being fired by Notre Dame was hired at Washington.<br />
<br />
As the football season winds down we are seeing more and more coaches shown the exits. Most of them are white. Most of them are being fired for under-performing. And many of them will get another big contract at another school.<br />
<br />
Of course it is possible that Embree is just a bad coach. But we probably won't ever know. Racial equality in college coaching requires minority coaches to be successful, to show the world that black head coaches can win championships.<br />
<br />
Here's what we do know: college coaches are paid huge salaries to win. And the men who support college athletics at major universities are powerful, rich, mostly white men. These "boosters" put pressure on the athletic directors by withholding their millions until their bidding is done. At Washington a well-known booster publicly offered the school $250,000 if they fired Willingham.<br />
<br />
Two days after Embree's dismissal, former CU coach Bill McCartney lambasted the university:<br />
<br />
<i>"I think men of color have a more difficult road to tread," he said. "I think that many people don't realize it.</i><br />
<i>"I heard the chancellor say it doesn't matter what color Jon Embree
is. To me, that offends every person of color out there. It's as if to
suggest that everything is done on a fair scale. It's not done on a fair
scale. Men of color don't have the same priveleges or same
opportunities and they are under greater pressure when they step in. For
some reason our culture has dialed up something that causes us to have
less confidence in people of color. I'm telling you, this guy can match
wits with any white guy out there. This Embree guy is the real deal. He
was doing it the right way."</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/11/28/football-bill-mccartney-_n_2203560.html" target="_blank">I am among the many who think that had Embree been white, he'd still be the coach at Colorado</a>, and the sports radio hosts, sports writers, and fans would be talking about how hard it is to build a program up from nothing, how you need to give a coach four years at least to see if his recruits can change the landscape. Instead, Embree is out of a head coaching job and Colorado will surely replace him with a white coach from another program. Likely one who has been fired for failing to perform.<br />
<br />
<b>Being Pretty Isn't Enough</b><br />
Like it or not, its movie season. All of the Oscar hopefuls are jamming the theaters between now and the end of the year. This year we once again have a couple of movies that are leaning entirely on their visual appeal. In the age of digital imagery and CGI, it has become enough to make a "stunning" visual showcase and call it a great movie. When did this happen? Sure, a movie should be nice to look at, but why can't we also have good story and good acting? Maybe I'm still just angry that Avatar got as much love as it did (that movie was a steaming pile of terrible), and maybe that's not fair, but there is no part of me that wants to see <i>Life of Pi,</i> simply because the reviews harp on its visual beauty and use that to make it ok that the story doesn't really work and the acting is just average.<br />
<br />
I'll have to see it, since it will be nominated and those are the rules for our Oscar Party, but I am not looking forward to it. I'm not looking forward to a lot of the Oscar movies, actually.<br />
<br />
The Colleague and I have seen a few movies so far this season, and with only one exception they have all been too damn long. I'll sit through a 3 hour movie. But only if it needs to be 3 hours long. <i>Lincoln</i> is long (just under 2:30) but just barely too long. A bit more editing and some thought about character development could have made it a solid 2 hour movie. The animated mess <i>Rise of the Guardians</i> is at least 30 minutes too long, and even the kids who forgive the plot holes and bad writing started squirming with 20 full minutes yet to go.<br />
<br />
So far this season the best movie I've seen is <i>Argo</i>. Crisp, visually appealing, and well acted, Argo feels precisely the right length and there aren't any scenes that scream to be cut out. Like a good poem, every line seems important to the next. It's my 36 star lock of the week. <br />
<br />
<br />GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-2609631915767634192012-08-19T10:27:00.002-07:002012-08-19T10:27:23.609-07:00Keep 'em WaitingEvery once in a while, usually when I am far from a computer, I think to myself that I should sit down and write a new blog post for this here space. Then I get to a computer and spend an hour reading satirical news pieces at The Onion and forget that I was going to write something. Or if I remember that I was going to write something, I forget what it was. But trust me, all of the ideas I've had in the last month or so have been great. You would have liked them.<br />
<br />
<b>Things I Could Have Written About</b><br />
<i>Sail </i><br />
I could have been updating you on the progress of our boat, for example. You would have liked that. She isn't done, that's for sure, but she's closer than she was before she was this close. The cool truck with the hydraulic stands comes to pick her up next week, which will will be a momentous day for us and for the pressure washer, which will have the task of cleaning off a driveway speckled with almost 3 years of boat detritus. I'm pretending that will go just fine.<br />
<br />
But moving the boat will create a void and render The Boat Yard just The Yard. We can't have that. So to form I'm in the market for the next boat project. The next project must be on a trailer, must qualify as a day sailor, and must be serviceable from Day One.<br />
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(Editor's Note: I already have it picked out. It's awesome.)<br />
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<i>Run</i><br />
Since the Chuckanut 50k I have fallen completely out of shape. This is a problem in part because I don't like being out of shape, but also because the Cle Elum Ridge 50k is coming up very soon. The elevation profile looks like this:<br />
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I am in no way ready for this race. No way. But I wasn't really ready for Chuckanut either, so I'll just take my friend JB's advice and "shut up and go run the damn thing." Cap'n Ron is running the 25k. Poor little fella is gonna be waiting a few hours for me to get to the finish. Don't eat all the pizza.</div>
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<i>Climb</i></div>
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Uh. I should probably take this out of the title of the blog. I think people still climb things. I don't remember why I used to. But I know I don't do it now. Here's a list of things I've climbed recently:</div>
<ul>
<li>The stairs in our house (but only because the bedroom and kitchen are on different floors)</li>
<li>The hill from The Boat Yard to the beach</li>
</ul>
That's it.<br />
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<i>Ride</i><br />
I did try to go for a ride the other day. Things went badly. The Fuji looks so good hanging in my office (and as a background for my Skype video calls) that I'm reluctant to take it down. Plus, I'm just not ready to invest in HGH, variations of which are apparently necessary in order to pedal a bike.<br />
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<i>Other</i><br />
Of course, there are a lot of other things I could have written about.<br />
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I could have written about politics. But then Romney selected his running mate and I couldn't think of anything funny to say.<br />
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And I just spent an hour looking for a funny picture or video of Paul Ryan, so now I'm sad.<br />
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Better go running.<br />
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GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-39362067001318691362012-05-24T10:04:00.001-07:002012-05-24T10:37:39.265-07:00Data Charges, Literary References to Cats, and Don Draper.<b>The Cat Came Back. Sort of.</b><br />
I think I remember "the cat came back" as a line from Stephen King's <i>Pet Sematary</i>, but it's been at least 20 years since I read that book. And maybe it was originally taken from a song? I could Google it, but I don't really care. Anyway, that line comes to mind because our strange, neurotic, sometimes incontinent, overly vocal and often rude cat ran away last week, much to the sadness of Second Oldest Girl Child. I was just happy that I was in Los Angeles at the time and so couldn't be accused of assisting the cat in her disappearance. <br />
<br />
I could give a rip about the actual cat, if I'm being perfectly honest. I find her rather useless as a pet. She sleeps all day and wanders around the house whining all night. Any hopes I have of the cat returning to the house are based only in not wanting SOGC to be sad. Also, the dumb thing ran away because it was scared of a new piece of furniture delivered to the house, so...it might be happier outside anyway, so long as it stays away from the patio set in the backyard.<br />
<br />
Acting as if I cared about the cat, I woke up at 4 this morning when I was pretty sure I heard it's weird little meow/howl outside our bedroom window. I trudged around in my pajamas like a T.S. Eliot character looking for an anthropomorphised T.S. Eliot character but saw nothing.*<br />
<br />
Then, as I made coffee at the more respectable hour of 6 a.m., I saw the little black furry thing in the backyard. Ahh, she's so cute and stupid and useless. <br />
<br />
It's hard to describe the combination of relief, disappointment, and exasperation I felt at that moment, but it is something like: "Yay the cat's back damn the cat's back what a stupid ass cat."<br />
<br />
Hoping to lure the cat back inside, SOGC put a food dish right inside the door. So while we paid to heat the backyard with our hard-working forced air furnace, the cat snuck in, ate some food, and left. After a couple of hours of this, the door is closed. Cat might be inside. Might still be outside. Who knows. I have a hard time caring.<br />
<br />
What self-respecting cat wouldn't just come right in? Stand at the door until someone opens it and then come in? Scratch at the screen? This thing is just plain moronic and probably deserves to live under the deck. For the record, she is welcome back inside, but I'm not going out of my way to accommodate her.<br />
<br />
And this marks the last time I will ever write about a cat on this blog.<br />
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<b>Where Do These Rates Go? They Go Up.</b><br />
That's a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087332/quotes" target="_blank"><i>Ghostbusters</i></a> reference for you. You're welcome.<br />
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This week I read two separate pieces about tech companies changing their data plans. The first one is a tiny little startup that is struggling to be relevant in the mobile phone market. I'll call them Berizon. The Colleague and I are proud holders of grandfathered data plans with Berizon, which means despite their current tiered pricing plans, we pay a flat fee and get unlimited data. Our reward for being customers since mobile phones were the size of a small shoe is that this option will soon disappear. No love for the long time customer.<br />
<br />
As of this summer, <a href="http://gadgetwise.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/07/05/verizon-to-drop-its-unlimited-mobile-data-plan-july-7/" target="_blank">according to such unreliable sources as that liberal rag the New York Times,</a> Berizon will require us to change to a tiered plan with any new two-year contract. I understand that moving data requires infrastructure and that infrastructure costs money, and we don't use enough data to make things appreciably more expensive under the new plan, but I sort of liked the idea of having this old-school, grandfathered cell plan. I imagine it's how people will feel in 15 years when they are still sitting on their 4% mortgages while new houses down the street are being financed at 11%.<br />
<br />
I thought I could trick Berizon and just wait until the day before the change happened in July and then re-up both of our iFruit Phones with a new 2 year contract on the old plan. But no. Any new two-year contract already requires moving to a new plan. When iFruit 5 comes out we will undoubtedly go through our semi-annual Let's Go Off the Grid talk before just bending over and taking whatever Berizon is going to give us.<br />
<br />
The more worrisome move is by our local broadband provider, which I will all Comcast. This tiny little company, which has a "customer tolerance" policy and that has a near monopoly in our neighborhood is <a href="http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/17/comcast-to-test-broadband-pricing-tied-to-use/" target="_blank">taking steps to implement a tiered pricing plan of their own</a>. Again, we don't come close to using the top end of their planned tiers (300 GB), but given that everything these days is served to our house over broadband - including most of what we watch on television (Netflix and Hulu) how long before running up against usage limits turns us into relative Luddites. No SmartTV? What the hell will I do then?<br />
<br />
The reality of our connectivity is a little embarrassing. Sitting here at my professional writer's station (a dark room behind the laundry room that was probably once dry food storage for the previous owner) I am listening to music on Pandora, my photos and music collections are magically populating my iFruit Desktop, my iFruit Laptop(s), iFruit Phone and my iFruit Tablet. Somewhere out in the family room there is a person I don't know waiting to play golf against me on the gaming system named after the pitch the Sounders play on. I can hear The Colleague listening to something or other on Spotify and all four of the kids are no doubt texting and doing important Facebook work up in their rooms.<br />
<br />
Now that I write that, the depth of my iFruit illness is coming clear. But that's a separate (if related) issue. As more and more appliances become "smart" we are bound to get trapped by data limits. I don't want my Smart Dishwasher to quit in the middle of sanitizing my leaded martini glasses just because my latest download of a Neil Diamond** album took me over our monthly limit.<br />
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<b>Don Draper is Marginally Interesting Again, and Other Television News To Make Me Seem Like I Know What I'm Talking About</b><br />
<i>Mad Men</i> limped into the current season off contract negotiations and production delays, resulting in a seriously bad season opener and three subsequent episodes that seemed at the time to be the death knell of the show.<br />
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The last two episodes (thanks to the late start to the season, the Thanksgiving and Christmas episodes) have been interesting again. I wasn't sure at season's start that I'd still be watching, but I am, so something is going right, and that something is a refocusing on the main cast. Late last season and early this season the writers spent too much time trying to find interesting character threads outside the office, and all of them fell flat. By jettisoning a few lame characters (Betty's feckless new husband, Joan's obviously gay husband, etc) the action of the show has moved back to the agency, and that is where it is at its best.<br />
<br />
This is a good lesson for show writers, especially as a franchise begins to age. When you find yourself in prolonged flashbacks, bringing in long lost family members, or spinning off your least repulsive secondary characters on their own storylines, your show is dying. The only way to revive it is counter-intuitive: You have to go back to the basics. Appeal to what made you good in the first place. <i>Mad Men</i> is Don Draper. Stay there.<br />
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This is also where I plug one of the best weekly blogs going: the <a href="http://www.grantland.com/blog/hollywood-prospectus/post/_/id/49943/mad-men-power-rankings-episode-511-christmas-waltz" target="_blank">Mad Men Power Rankings</a> at Grantland. It's snarky good fun, which is my favorite kind of good fun. Granted, it makes no sense if you haven't just watched the episode in question, but if you have, the Don Draper Fingerbang Threat Level is a little piece of genius every week. Mark Lisanti is one of my favorite Hollywood writers because of cold, perfect prose like this: "If you're not going to perform your basic job function, you can't really be surprised when someone throws a tiny plane at you." Context be damned, that's good stuff.<br />
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In other TV news, expect <i>Community</i> to die a fast, painful, cliche-ridden death next season. Show runner <a href="http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/19/community-creator-dan-harmon-is-replaced-as-show-runner/" target="_blank">Dan Harmon has been unceremoniously canned by Sony Pictures Television</a> and replaced by the guys who brought you <i>Happy Endings</i>. Never watched it? Never heard of it? Right. The last successful franchise the new show runners had was <i>Just Shoot Me!</i>, which was marginally good and was a decade ago. Chances of <i>Community</i> being relevant, interesting, or at all innovative in the future? I'll go with zero.<br />
<br />
And finally we come to <i>American Idol</i>, which concluded its 11th season with a weird two-hour show full of painful duets, weird celebrity cameos, and Jennifer Lopez in a strange looking MC Hammer-esque bedazzled pajama costume. I don't get it.<br />
<br />
But I still watch the show. I'm part of the "stagnant viewing base" that has led to 5 white male singers in a row being crowned the winner. It's not good television, and given the dozens of wannabe reality competitions on the slate every year, their days are numbered (maybe one more season? Two at most?).<br />
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I watch it because once in a while a really good singer comes along. That singer never wins, but for someone whose "going out to clubs to see a band no one has ever heard of in case they end up being big someday" days are over, it's actually kind of nice to see a new artist on the show whose record I might actually buy. <br />
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Mostly, <i>American Idol</i> is something I watch only because of the DVR. If I had to watch it live I'd never see it. In the network's quest to create true appointment television, they are losing out to technology. No one watches even reality TV live anymore, because the shows aren't about who wins, loses, goes home, or loses a top in a physical challenge. The shows are more and more like scripted TV, which doesn't require a front row seat at the live release.<br />
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A new model of TV is going to have to emerge. I know what it looks like, but I'm not telling you what it is. So there.<br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*For those who don't remember their comparative literature classes, that's a "Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" reference followed by a "Cats" reference. Both written by T.S. Eliot. True story. That dude loved cats so much he wrote a freaky book about them called "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats." I think it was right before he finally went senile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">**Of course by Neil Diamond I mean porn. Does anyone read these footnotes? The Internet is for porn.</span><br />
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<br />GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-7660164526950273892012-04-19T10:46:00.000-07:002012-04-19T10:46:47.331-07:00Recreational Obstructionism and Urban Recreational Opportunities<b>Just Say No. To Everything All The Time Always. </b><br />
Let me start by saying that relentlessly happy and positive people drive me crazy. Those people who, regardless of circumstance or surroundings are painfully cheery to the point of giving the people around them diabetes. That sort of positivity is an act, and in my limited experience it is usually masking some serious darkness. Those are the people who end up going completely bananas and living alone in a room full of old newspapers.<br />
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Worse are the perpetually negative. Recreational obstructionists. The "no" for the sake of "no" crowd. These people aren't saying "no" to things for any deep-seeded reasons. They object because they think objection is the starting point of debate. <br />
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I think it's a personality disorder, but it might just as well be a learned behavior. Either way, it's crazy-making.<br />
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The Learning Factory has a strong contingent of recreational obstructionists. Most of them are very well-meaning and they think they are doing their academic duty by opposing anything new, but in a system that is already an incredibly complicated labyrinth of redundant bureaucratic systems, adding meaningless and recreational obstructionism to any process just means nothing gets done. Ever.<br />
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And yes, I just wrote "redundant bureaucratic systems." I'm aware of the implications.<br />
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Here is a completely fictional* example of how this goes down. Remember, this is pure fiction**.<br />
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Learning Factory Instructional Drone (LFID) sees a need for a new program and does the leg work and research to set up the foundations of said program. This LFID brings this simple proposal to his or her colleagues, makes a simple but thoughtful presentation meant simply to inform his or her colleagues that this is happening, and plans to move on and, when it gets to the stage of implementation, bring it to the proper group for approval. Remember, this presentation is merely informational, and perhaps an invitation for others to get involved if they are interested.<br />
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Level One Response: We tried this in the 70s, and it didn't work. Have you talked to the retired guy who lives in Palm Desert now about this? You should. He probably has some interesting things to say.<br />
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Level Two Response: This sounds an awful lot like a plan I was hoping to put together in my own department, and if you do it, then I can't. So I think you should have invited all of us in on this conversation.<br />
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Level Three Response: This seems inequitable. If you get to spearhead this new thing, doesn't that privilege you over the rest of us? We should all be equal in every way all the time.<br />
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Level Four Response: There are far better ways to spend our time/money than this. What about the _________ students/programs?<br />
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And the Level Five Response is a very complicated passive-aggressive campaign against whatever said initiative may be. It starts with a small alliance forming in opposition. Then the existing bureaucracy is used to slow down any progress on the initiative. Meetings are held. Committees are formed. Committees dissolve. Academic years end, putting initiative on hold for the summer. In the fall key members of the opposition are on leave, so no meetings are held.<br />
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Meanwhile, the grant money that was available to start the initiative is no longer available. And nothing changes. Opposition wins without ever actually having to articulate an actual objection. It's genius, really. And now you know why I seldom try to do anything new and interesting at The Learning Factory any more. Not that you were wondering.<br />
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It is amazing how resistant to change we are at The Learning Factory, but I didn't start thinking of this in terms of my place of employment. It all started when I got into an argument with someone about the proposed NBA/NHL arena in Seattle.<br />
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Seattle is famously obstructionist when it comes to public policy and infrastructure. For a liberal town, we sure are afraid of change and progress. The proposed NBA/NHL arena, in case you haven't been following it, <a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2017997107_arena17m.html" target="_blank">is the investment idea of hedge-fund gatrillionaire Chris Hansen</a>. It is a $490 million project that would build an 18,000 seat arena south of Safeco Field in the Sodo district. Hansen already owns all of the land and has proposed to build the arena without any public money (necessary because of a weirdly entrenched and now legislated attitude of Seattle voters, more on this in a minute). <br />
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His plan asks for the county to use their bonding authority to borrow $200 million for construction, all of which would be paid back through gate taxes, concessions, and the like at the new arena. With a few exceptions and concerns (traffic and access to the Port of Seattle seems to be a hangup, an issue Hansen has agreed to use his money to study), it is pretty well agreed that as stadium and arena plans go, it is a deal you just aren't going to get very often. It fits the anti-tax attitude of "pay to play," and it creates a few jobs where before there would be none.<br />
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But in Seattle, the answer from the public is no. Irrationally, uncontrollably, and defiantly NO!<br />
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No to the monorail system because it might not serve my neighborhood and sometimes they break down.<br />
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No to light rail because no one will ride it and we need more freeways.<br />
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No to new freeways because they cost too much to build.<br />
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No to a tunnel because I want a different option.<br />
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No to anything the government wants to do. Put it to a public vote! <br />
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Just no! To everything. It's bloody maddening. I understand transparent process and I understand the need for things to be vetted and discussed, but we in Seattle have a strange attachment to direct democracy that is just plain unhealthy. Why do elect anyone in the first place?<br />
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And why are we so bent on looking for reasons to say no to things? How different would life here be if we just flipped it over a little bit and looked for reasons to say yes to things? We can still debate the issues and we can still ultimately say no to things that deserve to be turned down. Maybe a little positivity in the public discourse? Shit.<br />
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<b>Urban Recreation and Cocktails. Civilized.</b><br />
Back many moons ago I used to windsurf. A lot. And I used to snow ski just as much in the winter as I sailed in the spring and summer.<br />
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One of the great joys of that lifestyle was the Wednesday night races. Around 6 pm at Magnussen Park and Alki Beach we would get together, race around some buoys, have a beer or two (let's say for today's purposes that I was 21 years old for this. I wasn't. But let's say I was) and then go home when it got dark. I remember it being very civilized and communal. Generally a nice way to spend an evening.<br />
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In the winter, we would drive up to Alpental to race around the gates under the lights, have a beer or two in the lodge (see above disclaimer about my age) and be home by 10. Again, very civilized and fun.<br />
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This week I had that feeling again at the <a href="http://www.nwtrailruns.com/content/ravenna-weeknight-run-1" target="_blank">Ravenna Weeknight Run</a> put on by Northwest Trail Runs. About 100 or so runners got together for a 6:45 start and a friendly "race" through the trails of Ravenna Park. There were prizes, there was food, there was a very well organized race, there was comedy, and there was community. And afterward, RPD and I grabbed a nice cocktail and appetizer at Franks Oyster House in Ravenna.<br />
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This weeknight series is a great idea, and I hope they continue it. Sure, the longer weekend races at more exotic locations are a bigger "sell" but being able to decide at the last minute to leave the office and drive 15 minutes to the park for a nice run and some community is a nice addition to the local running scene. There are running groups and there are training runs and all that, but a race event is just different.<br />
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For the record, I finished the 12k race in 1:01:05, just missing perfect 20 minute splits. Now I have a goal for the next race.<br />
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<i>Coming Soon: I reflect on traveling to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Can't wait, can you?</i><br />
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*It's totally true.<br />
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**Not at all fiction. This totally happens all the time.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-29692100361109041942012-04-13T10:27:00.000-07:002012-04-13T10:27:02.401-07:00Pimento and Cheese<b>I Totally F-ing Went to the Masters!</b><br />
While my DVR was recording the HD feed of The Masters last weekend, I was in Augusta, Georgia, eating pimento and cheese sandwiches and watching the best golfers in the world make their way around Augusta National Golf Club.<br />
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It's true. Here are my credentials. I have no other pictures, because just like women*, cameras are not allowed at Augusta National.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56Vebs-UtIUbUPNiiHrG70PLvSoCcN1SUEe233_1tVlh_0T4aSZfN2Ic5Y0wj8Cn_2ow9AQRuuqO1jfV1BgO2rtCDAjCygOxvahj2XvORREhgF9hdjLwbz35qanDqlmAFdpSM/s1600/masterscredentials.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56Vebs-UtIUbUPNiiHrG70PLvSoCcN1SUEe233_1tVlh_0T4aSZfN2Ic5Y0wj8Cn_2ow9AQRuuqO1jfV1BgO2rtCDAjCygOxvahj2XvORREhgF9hdjLwbz35qanDqlmAFdpSM/s320/masterscredentials.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div>I'm not exactly what magic The Colleague pulled to make this one happen, but I can tell you I've never been so surprised to receive a gift in my life. The sequence went something like this:</div><div><ul><li><b>I arrived home to an obviously golf-themed birthday party</b>. Brain says: But I haven't played golf in 4 years. Maybe I'm taking it up again!</li>
<li><b>Guests unscrambled names of flowers and plants as a little party game.</b> Brain says: It's spring!</li>
<li><b>I am asked to make sense of the list of these flower names.</b> Brain says: There are 18 of them. And one of them is "Azalea." This clearly has to do with The Masters. But what the hell is going on?</li>
<li><b>I open a package from Premiere Sports Travel that includes an itinerary for the weekend rounds at Augusta National.</b> Brain says: Error error error.</li>
</ul><div>I know at least two of my two readers think golf is ridiculous to play, let alone watch. But this is Augusta National, and other than The Old Course at St. Andrews, there is no more storied golf course on the planet. And there is no tournament with more compelling stories and history than The Masters. I vividly remember watching as my golf hero, Fred Couples,<a href="http://www.sanfordholien.com/pages/Raes%20Creek.html" target="_blank"> landed his tee shot on #12 short of the green and staring amazed as his ball defied gravity and somehow didn't roll back into Rae's Creek.</a></div></div><div><br />
</div><div>So on day one, after running the gauntlet of Augusta National Security (no cell phones, no electronics, no cameras, no food, no water, no women*...) I walked straight to Amen Corner and sat on the grass, marveling at the fact that I was there. That feeling never wore off. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Even if this year's tournament had been a bust on the course, it would have been worth it just to be on those grounds. It really was amazing. I will never eat a pimento and cheese sandwich again, but if I do, it will be because I had about 100 of them ($1 a piece) while I was there.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But the tournament was amazing. By nothing more than pure dumb luck, I saw 2 holes in one and a double eagle on the same day.<a href="http://assets.sbnation.vid.io/1f70192c530720eb6198acac25bb7525.mp4" target="_blank"> Let me explain the double eagle for both of you.</a> Hole #2 is a 575 yard par 5. I walked up to the ropes near the green just as Louis Oosthuizen was walking up to his first shot, perfectly placed in the middle of the fairway. I'd seen several groups come through here already and very few made much noise. #2 is not the hardest hole on the course, but in tournament play it gives up the fewest eagles of any of the par 5s on the course. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So Oosthuizen hits his shot from about 255 yards away. Three and a half football fields. The guy next to me says, "Oh, he left it short." His kid says, "It looks pretty good!"</div><div><br />
</div><div>The best thing about this shot is that the ball landed in South Carolina before rolling slowly up and across the green. The crowd applauded a little. It kept rolling. The crowd murmered. It curved toward the hole. The crowd got up on their toes to watch. It kept rolling. Some asshole from 1995 yelled "Get in the hole!" forgetting that John Daly wasn't there. It kept rolling. I said to the guy next to me, "That damn thing is going in the-" It dropped into the hole "-cup."</div><div><br />
</div><div>And the place just went bananas. There is something special about a golf tournament roar. For starters, you can hear one from anywhere on the course. So every fan, sorry, patron, and every golfer on the course knew something amazing happened. And because the course is usually so subdued, it goes from silent to Sounder's home game loud in 3 seconds. As sporting moments go, it is one of the most emotionally overwhelming moments possible, right behing the fighter jet fly-over at the Rose Bowl, which even gets to the sports-resistant Colleague.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So, The Masters was incredible on every level. Augusta, GA? That's another story. What a hole that place is.</div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">*If you were the female CEO of IBM, would you want to be a member of Augusta National? I think not.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-60395492577166581682012-03-28T08:34:00.002-07:002012-03-28T08:44:14.115-07:00Mad Meh, Stand Your Ground, and Golf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><b>A Little Language Usage Complaint</b><br />
I'm not sure how you would define the phrase "Stand Your Ground," but to me it doesn't mean "seek out people who seem threatening, chase them down, confront them, and then shoot them in 'self-defense.'" But maybe I'm quibbling about nuance...<br />
<b> </b><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTahRLdJsrGjN4VKOrO7qphYEGTKzjPyRR2UADmRjCerv-AtJOQTdmmVHj_wHhFP1jijMUQ_rhNF3xtJPa4eIMwmDqu52hJMDcNKwm-va_TGJwO8_Ig_QfAsybjhF9QgKbXLB/s1600/bayhill-turftalk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTahRLdJsrGjN4VKOrO7qphYEGTKzjPyRR2UADmRjCerv-AtJOQTdmmVHj_wHhFP1jijMUQ_rhNF3xtJPa4eIMwmDqu52hJMDcNKwm-va_TGJwO8_Ig_QfAsybjhF9QgKbXLB/s320/bayhill-turftalk.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh golf. You're so nice to look at.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>What High Definition Was Made For</b><br />
This past weekend The Colleague was visiting friends in San Francisco, where rather than party it up and lose her purse, as has happened before in that town, she took the time to muse about motherhood and social responsibility, which you can (should) <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/hayden-bixby/wangari-maathai_b_1381179.html" target="_blank">read about here</a>.<br />
<br />
But while she was there I had The Shack to myself, and for the first time in several years I sat down and watched a round of golf on television. Now I know most people think watching golf on TV is the equivalent of whatever else they find boring and pointless, but I love it. And in high definition on a big TV? Oh yeah. That's the stuff.<br />
<br />
It's also true that golf is just more fun to watch when Tiger Woods is playing. Yeah he's a dick and he screwed his life up pretty massively. I would have been surprised if he didn't. He's really, really fun to watch play. And if we keep watching long enough, he's going to finally snap and murder someone on the course for taking his picture during a backswing. Set your DVR to CBSHD, the <a href="http://www.masters.com/index.html" target="_blank">Masters</a> is coming up.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWxtjuiMcihR2mOez6HUaz49b0AIoaYWuSKFwVxZ3qWkvaRqYaaleMQbNpLQzHBYHaTicQAFKIPDfPBcaQQiv1_XPYHWD_XvTHfwS3XpJ4kY5fLZwcOCyD4Q2Q9p2LjL87qBt/s1600/madmenpete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWxtjuiMcihR2mOez6HUaz49b0AIoaYWuSKFwVxZ3qWkvaRqYaaleMQbNpLQzHBYHaTicQAFKIPDfPBcaQQiv1_XPYHWD_XvTHfwS3XpJ4kY5fLZwcOCyD4Q2Q9p2LjL87qBt/s320/madmenpete.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete Campbell going dark? I'd watch that<b>.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Mad...Meh </b><br />
The Colleague and I sat down to watch the first episode of the new <i>Mad Men </i>season. Not live. On DVR. We're not cave people. <br />
<br />
I don't know if we just weren't paying as much attention last time the show was on, but since their long hiatus, they seem to have gotten sloppy. Every couple of minutes we would look at each other as if to say, "Did you just see that?" I had a running list of grievances in my head as we watched. An awkward voice dub here, poorly delivered lines there, sloppy editing everywhere. And really lazy writing. Really. Lazy.<br />
<br />
The "return" episode was slotted for two hours, so they had about 1:45 to work with. But they didn't need it. There were at least a dozen unnecessary cut scenes or speeches that seemed only to be there to make sure a character had a certain amount of screen time. And nothing happened! In the few opportunities the writers had to create some drama or conflict, they backed off, and the result was that the whole episode just sort of flat-lined its way along. Yawn. The only saving grace for me is that <a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/mad-men/cast/pete-campbell" target="_blank">Pete Campbell (played by Vincent Kartheiser)</a> is emerging as the most compelling character on the show. If the writers don't start using his character to give the show its dark edge back, they are missing out on a golden opportunity. Honestly, he's the only character I find interesting on a show that in its first two seasons was full of cool characters. There's hope that Betty (January Jones) will come back (she wasn't in episode one at all) and continue to devolve into insanity. Does anyone else think she is a rather terrible actor? Or is that just me? I digress.<br />
<br />
This is season five of the show, and I have a bad feeling about it. My theory is that shows like <i>Mad Men</i> have a good three season window and after that the wheels start coming off. Compare <a href="http://www.hbo.com/deadwood/index.html" target="_blank"><i>Deadwood </i></a>(three total seasons) to <a href="http://www.hbo.com/the-sopranos/" target="_blank"><i>The Sopranos</i></a> (six seasons). Deadwood ended before it lost its momentum. The Sopranos beat us about the head and neck with blunt storylines and dream sequences, long lost relatives, and all sorts of crazy shit. Season 4 was questionable. It became unwatchable in season 5.<br />
<br />
For the record, I loved <i>Deadwood</i>. The Colleague never liked it. So use that information before you go out and buy the DVD set. Also for the record, the production value of both shows is far and above what we get on <i>Mad Men</i>. <i>Deadwood</i> was downright stunning to watch.<br />
<br />
So for <i>Mad Men</i>, when the writers run out of their planned character arcs and start killing people off or bringing in long-lost relatives and whatnot, you will know they are sliding. I expect this season to slide into melodramatic crap. But I'm willing to give it a shot because...well it's <i>Mad Men</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm also willing to give it a try because our harshest household critic, The Colleague, made a solid point after we finished watching episode one. After the long hiatus, the writers had to treat this episode much like a pilot, reintroducing characters and story lines, but they also had to skip ahead in time while keeping some continuity with where they left off. No easy task. The Draper kids have grown, history has moved along (which they tried to show with the inclusion of race riots and protests), and characters have matured since we last saw them. So the staff had a big challenge on their hands. I think they messed it up. But time will tell. They have at least one more season of <a href="http://www.amctv.com/shows/mad-men/iphone" target="_blank">Mad Men cocktail parties</a> to support.<br />
<br />
<b>All Toenails Go to Heaven</b><br />
The only long term injury I suffered at the Chuckanut 50k was one dead toenail on my right foot. Well, that and whatever damage I am doing to my relationships by spending so much damn time running in preparation for my next event...<br />
<br />
<b>One Way Winter is Better than Spring</b><br />
There is no way you can convince me that a "spring beer" is interesting. Winter beers I can get onboard with. Spring beers? What the hell is a spring beer? Most of them are Nut Brown Ales with some sort of catchy name (Red Hook's apparently defunk "Mudslinger" was a decent name for a terrible beer).<br />
<br />
Meh.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-19018418115581726062012-03-21T13:29:00.000-07:002012-03-21T13:29:00.053-07:00I Hate This Song! And Other Things, Too.<span style="font-size: small;"><b>What is This Drivel?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">16 miles into my recent Chuckanut 50k adventure (report forthcoming from Nobody Cares Press) I switched on my trusty iPod so my music could help me forget that I had 15 miles yet to go. A mile later I realized that I hate every song in my library. Help please. I need some new music suggestions. The music doesn't have to be new, but the suggestions do. <b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br />
</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Can We Agree...</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">That the driver of this truck has some issues? </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RxIWTLszUbhspNEJH6FmQvzDu19hLLfF0mmeWo3bBORLEF7tWwdFZJ4zRaEzLge_Nghf6TY56CFutk6VFVTs4RRriUn7SFlISo1k492QoOK4jsIw3VHaMWPm7CDQJbDDda3h/s1600/gaymarriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RxIWTLszUbhspNEJH6FmQvzDu19hLLfF0mmeWo3bBORLEF7tWwdFZJ4zRaEzLge_Nghf6TY56CFutk6VFVTs4RRriUn7SFlISo1k492QoOK4jsIw3VHaMWPm7CDQJbDDda3h/s320/gaymarriage.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet another eloquent argument from the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remoteness</b></span><br />
I just completed my first full time, all online teaching quarter at The Learning Factory. It's an experiment in lowering my stress level and keeping me from going ballistic on a few of my colleagues, and so far, success! It has been three months since my last academic rampage. But this remoteness isn't, to use a phrase that is ever so popular around the cinderblock hallways of TLF, "sustainable" for the long term. I could be wrong, but I think the appetite for online learning is waning, and students seem to be catching on that they pay more for an experience that is usually more limiting and less engaging than face to face classes.<br />
<br />
More importantly, when I look into the future using my Obvious Outcomes Glasses, I can see that The Learning Factory and especially the union drones therein are going to start squawking about equity when it comes to online versus face to face learning. But until that happens, weeeeeeeeeee! I'm working from home, baby.<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
Not having to go to the office on a regular basis takes a lot more discipline and organization than I actually have. I have to have my iPhone remind me on a regular basis that I am supposed to be working, not playing <a href="http://www.worldoftropico.com/us/index.php" target="_blank"><i>Tropico</i></a> on the XBOX, which is what I spend most of my time doing these days.<br />
<br />
<br />
How cool is <i>Tropico</i>? I'll tell you. Super. That's how. But not as cool as this, spotted recently on a Washington State Ferry while commuting to The Boat Yard...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dD9mPFEZDPTV4YgdDHsoGEYadH-TY1O6CwmuWzC3TFDjb1Jwv3DtyIj6UM0bpPOAXLNaJvjjtPE-Es2zfPXrO2hRd6BNDNgH0FbSJPgHLOQuebLFmpdi71ow-fxJlsnitzJG/s1600/PacMan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dD9mPFEZDPTV4YgdDHsoGEYadH-TY1O6CwmuWzC3TFDjb1Jwv3DtyIj6UM0bpPOAXLNaJvjjtPE-Es2zfPXrO2hRd6BNDNgH0FbSJPgHLOQuebLFmpdi71ow-fxJlsnitzJG/s320/PacMan.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old School!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Drill Baby Drill?</b><br />
<br />
Both of my readers know that I am no fan of the Grand Ole Party and their conservative (regressive) stances on social issues. And it's no secret that I have little patience for the incredibly simplistic rhetoric that dominates political discourse. Everything gets boiled down to simple dichotomous stances on what are usually incredibly complex issues, which helps no one but lobbyists and politicians.<br />
<br />
Today from the Associated Press comes a "Fact Check" that will doubtlessly be ignored or cast aside as the "liberal media" doing the dirty work for the Obama administration...<br />
<br />
Headline: <a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2017801872_apusdrillnowfactcheck.html" target="_blank">More US Drilling Wouldn't Drop Gas Prices</a><br />
<br />
Here's a tickler:<br />
<br />
<i>Supporters of the controversial Keystone XL pipeline say it would bring 25 million barrels of oil to the United States a month. That's the same increase in U.S. production that occurred between February and November last year. Monthly gas prices went up a dime a gallon in that time.</i><br />
<i>The late 1980s and 1990s show exactly how domestic drilling is not related to gas prices.</i><br />
<br />
Duh. Guess what? Most domestic oil is exported as crude oil, not refined in the US. And guess what? Adapting US refining capabilities to process domestic crude (which is different chemically that crude that is currently imported) would be so prohibitively expensive that it is actually cheaper to export our crude and import crude oil to be refined into precious, precious gasoline. <br />
<br />
Plus, US production of crude oil can barely scratch the overall world market.<br />
<br />
Another tickler:<br />
<br />
<i>Unlike natural gas or electricity, the United States alone does not have the power to change the supply-and-demand equation in the world oil market, said Christopher Knittel, a professor of energy economics at MIT. American oil production is about 11 percent of the world's output, so even if the U.S. were to increase its oil production by 50 percent - that is more than drilling in the Arctic, increased public-lands and offshore drilling, and the Canadian pipeline would provide - it would at most cut gas prices by 10 percent.</i><br />
<br />
Of course, if Sudan and South Sudan fall into all-out war and cut off their supply of oil to China, we could all be screwed...But that's in Africa, and we like to pretend Africa doesn't exist outside of Disney movies about funny hyenas, recent Kony-related viral videos excepted.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-6571758481003392062012-03-12T09:37:00.001-07:002012-03-12T09:48:15.675-07:00March Madness. And College Basketball, Too!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2-H8H4iWRqBUmP_KbPBkI6uBv_u57CooR4OCFUlaBtLhdJhZ9h5SPu1CkGOVHpgRFyJQCCy_jIho1gN7GzlRaXZwPZws4eM6hjVTpYmPGKBn4QrnvKoUA5YML5M4Dlp9Ssjz/s1600/ncaa_uw_out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2-H8H4iWRqBUmP_KbPBkI6uBv_u57CooR4OCFUlaBtLhdJhZ9h5SPu1CkGOVHpgRFyJQCCy_jIho1gN7GzlRaXZwPZws4eM6hjVTpYmPGKBn4QrnvKoUA5YML5M4Dlp9Ssjz/s320/ncaa_uw_out.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Huskies were a few free throws from the NCAA Tournament.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>I'm Filling Out my NIT Bracket Right Now! </b><br />
Did you know that the Washington Huskies are 3-5 all time in the NIT? I didn't either until today, when the field of 68 was revealed for this year's "amateur" collegiate basketball tournament. The Huskies, despite winning the Pac12 title in the regular season, were left out of the NCAA Tournament. In the week leading up the selection they went from a predicted #8 seed to out of the field based, essentially, on their first-round lost in the Pac12 Tournament. Colorado went on to win the Pac12 post-season title, and the automatic bid, and Cal somehow got an at-large bid despite finishing behind Washington in the regular season. Conventional wisdom is that Washington had to win just one more game to be a lock for the tournament. One game against Oregon State is the difference between a 10 or 11 seed and being out completely?<br />
<br />
Now, I'm not enough of a homer that I am blind to the fact that the Huskies aren't very good. They can't hit free throws and they lost a few games they should have won. But there is no way they are worse than all 68 teams in the field. Their exclusion from the field was a combination of national basketball writers who have been putting down the Pac12 all season as "soft" and the NCAA Tournament selection committee making an example of Washington. The message? The regular conference season doesn't matter. Win out of conference, have a hard out of conference schedule, and make a run in the conference post season. This is the first time the regular season Pac10(12) winner has been left out of the tournament in...ever.<br />
<br />
Again, I didn't think the Huskies were a tournament team. I like to watch them, and I hoped they would get in because they're the sort of team that could throw together a great game or two and upset a few higher seeds, but they had a chance to force the NCAA to take them, and they blew it.<br />
<br />
All that said, the bad taste in my mouth here is the same as the one I get every winter when the BCS bowl games are played. Adding games, consolidating leagues, creating complex ranking systems, and developing playoff systems are all serving one purpose: making money for the leagues, the schools, and the NCAA. And all of that revenue is made on the backs of amateur athletes who are expressly forbidden to make a dime from any of it. And because many of these athletes know it's a scam, and they know their lifespan as an athlete is already precariously short as 19 year old college stars, we may only get a couple more changes to see the likes of Tony Wroten on a college basketball court. <br />
<br />
The reason for the Pac12 tournament is to make more television money. And the existence of the Pac12 tournament fundamentally devalues the Pac12 regular season. This is a separate issue from the fact that the Huskies tanked it at the end of the season (and against Marquette earlier in the year, and against South Dakota State, and...). <br />
<br />
<b>More on Social Networking</b><br />
It took me a few years to figure out the point of Twitter. I get it now. I get it in large part because of my iPhone. Twitter makes sense on a smartphone. I'm sitting in a meeting, more bored than during a wedding of someone I barely know, and none of my Words With Friends opponents have played a word in 10 minutes. I open my Twitter app and read little bits of linguistic joy from some of my favorites. In addition to following me (@GregVanBelle), try these Twitter faves:<br />
<br />
For Brief Clips of Satirical Genius: <br />
<ul><li>@TheOnion</li>
<li>@BorowitzReport</li>
<li>@SarahKSilverman</li>
</ul>For Meaningful Social Media Connections:<br />
<ul><li>@HuffingtonPost</li>
<li>@CuraOrphanage</li>
<li>@TheDailyShow</li>
<li> @CNN</li>
</ul><b>Liquid Money</b><br />
Some many years ago I wrote something about the fact that <a href="http://www.popsci.com/gear-gadgets/article/2008-02/grouse-inkjet-refill-racket" target="_blank">printer ink was the most expensive liquid per gallon a general consumer could buy</a> ($8,000 per gallon!, and yet we still have three ink jet printers in our house and we still march obediently to the local Staples to buy more every other month or so.<br />
<br />
And we have recently added another unnecessarily expensive liquid to our household. No, not the good scotch I have hidden in a super-secret lock box. No, we have fallen head over heels for our new <a href="http://www.keurig.com/" target="_blank">Keurig</a> single-serving coffee maker. We are effectively paying about $1.00 per cup of home brewed coffee (which works out, according to some, to about $25 a pound).<br />
<br />
We spent about a week rationalizing this purchase and the cost associated with it (it was wasteful to make a whole pot and throw it out...I drink less coffee now than I used to!...it's still much cheaper than going down to Starbucks or Tullys!). That's all bullshit, of course. We just like the cool space age machine and the variety of little coffee and tea pods we can buy. And the coffee is actually good.<br />
<br />
(2 minute break while I make a second cup of coffee)<br />
<br />
Yeah. That's good stuff...cha ching!<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>50k is 31 miles. No Way Around It.</b><br />
This Saturday is the Chuckanut 50k. I have the course map on my desk and I stare at it often. I still haven't decided whether to attack this one or not. My Achilles tendons are still fighting me a bit and they kept me from my last long run. I can do the mileage, and I'm not in bad shape otherwise, but I'm worried already about blowing up. Not a good feeling.<br />
<br />
So I'm stuck in this spot between the desire to get my first ultra under my shoes and not wanting to have to drop out of the race after it starts.<br />
<br />
I've done 31 miles on trails before (last summer's epic 'Round St Helens adventure) but it took me 11 hours. That's my only comparative baseline.<br />
<br />
I have no real reason to write this other than to bitch about my first-world problem of having to decide whether to spend a Saturday running around in the forest for recreation.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for more of same.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-86906746787719591482012-03-09T13:27:00.000-08:002012-03-09T13:27:12.522-08:00The Serious and the Ridiculous. And Running, which is Both.<b>Ultra Delusions</b><br />
Just under one week from now I am supposed to lace up the shoes and set out for 31+ miles of light exercise in the Chuckanut 50k. I have the mileage and training in for sure (thanks to some serious mileage on the very serious trails in New Zealand) but it's starting to feel like my Achilles Tendons are going to get in the way of this one. My typical self-diagnosis suggests tendonitis, but who knows. One thing is for sure, if my lower legs don't feel better in a week, there will be no 50k for me...<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>The Learning Factory. Now With More Cogs.</b><br />
I admit to not always paying complete attention in faculty meetings, so it is partly my fault, but I tried for 45 minutes the other day to remember what the various initiatives and projects are that us Teaching Drones are responsible for this year. Connecting the project to the acronym is great sport. But I couldn't tell you what they all are.<br />
<br />
What I do know is that about half of the faculty in my division are "reassigned" from teaching to working on these initiatives, most of which are ostensibly about quality in teaching. How many students are not served by those faculty so they can work on projects to improve teaching and learning for those students who are not being served? Students at the Learning Factory already have about a 75% chance that their teachers will be adjuncts who work for less pay with fewer benefits and with no obligation to consult with students outside of class. Then we take more full time faculty out of the classroom to do administrative work related to initiatives funded with soft money and that require more time out of the classroom for additional training? What? How top heavy can this thing get before it tumbles down into the parking lot?<br />
<br />
I am deeply cynical of these things, especially those without a research base behind them, and I still marvel at how much of our teaching jobs have absolutely nothing to do with actually teaching students.<br />
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Which is why I wrote this while I as scheduled to serve as academic advisor to drop-in students (only about 25% of whom "dropped in"). The Learning Factory "lets" us cancel classes with our own students to help other students pick which math class they should take next term. What?<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Adventures in TeenagerLand</b><br />
I am not yet to the point of wanting to apologize to my parents for being between the ages of 15-18, but it's getting close.<br />
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</b><br />
<b>If It Weren't So Sad, It Would be Hilarious</b><br />
For the short term, I am really getting a kick out of watching the GOP "hopefuls" drift farther and farther to the right, pandering to a smaller and smaller group of primary voters who are really, really a-scared of that black guy running the country. Then it hits me that these people have about a 50/50 shot of becoming president and I wake up with my passport in my hand and my laptop open to Expedia, looking for cheap flights to Europe.<br />
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</b><br />
<b>A Little Something Serious</b><br />
Not to bring the real world into this fiction I have created, but allow me to use social media to make a comment about social media. (Somewhere in that last sentence is the start of a master's thesis someone will start but never finish.)<br />
<br />
As I write this the name Joseph Kony has gone from almost complete western obscurity to household name, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4MnpzG5Sqc" target="_blank">thanks to this video on YouTube</a>. Viral status on YouTube is generally reserved for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZ860P4iTaM" target="_blank">cats who play pianos</a> or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jI7gk9GnGiQ" target="_blank">white trash girls being thrown from the back of motorcycles</a>. But this time, not only was the video more than 68 seconds long, it was about something that matters.<br />
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So the video starts getting linked to Facebook pages and blogs all around the west. My 14 year old niece shared it on her Facebook page, and I guarantee you she had no idea who Kony was before this. The last time America was reminded that Uganda existed was when we all learned <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0455590/" target="_blank">that Idi Amin was actually Forrest Whitaker</a>. And even after that film, I doubt most Americas could find Uganda on a map (hint: it's in East Africa). But once something gets traction, there is internet traffic to be had in criticizing it and poking holes in it.<br />
<br />
Invisible Children, the organization that produced the 20 minute YouTube video on Kony, deserves scrutiny and attention. Most organizations do. And I strongly believe that non-profits asking for money from the public need to be as open and transparent as possible (which is why I think The Colleague/My Personal Rock Star is <a href="http://curaorphanage.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">doing such great work at Cura</a>). Bloggers and other media outlets have criticized Invisible Children for being overly simple about a complex issue, for their expenditures, for their fundraising, and even for potentially interfering with the mission to capture Kony.<br />
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Questions abound. Is Invisible Children over-simplifying the issue? Well, yeah. You can't exactly distill decades of post-colonial chaos into one 30 minute video. Is the portrayal of Kony incomplete and perhaps factually challenge? Probably. Are there flaws? Yes.<br />
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But so what? The entire point of the video is to raise awareness. Does it do that? It does. Very well. There are people on Twitter with literally millions of followers who are clicking that link and learning about the Lord's Resistance Army. There are people in the west who are becoming more aware of one of the many issues in sub-Saharan Africa for the first time. How can that be a bad thing? It's complicated, for sure, but we live in the age of social media, and this is an example of how it can be used to educate and mobilize rather than just entertain.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-89778073649342748542012-02-29T11:39:00.001-08:002012-02-29T12:28:38.161-08:00SailRunClimbRide is back. For now.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIv_pVJLdYE3_XGCqmr8hWHbXsC-DWPWUjjAe9cmGH3tCDBDS0uyGPN0-osecJnaeiqGN8JBnQU18UP_WPEvsh_SIN1O6wE6EL_3Ctm9ojnS5ZSZJaR4rLbGvlDQz6tjB7E8z/s1600/IMG_0809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIv_pVJLdYE3_XGCqmr8hWHbXsC-DWPWUjjAe9cmGH3tCDBDS0uyGPN0-osecJnaeiqGN8JBnQU18UP_WPEvsh_SIN1O6wE6EL_3Ctm9ojnS5ZSZJaR4rLbGvlDQz6tjB7E8z/s320/IMG_0809.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm Back. Sorry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I received an email from Blogger today notifying me that someone had posted a comment on this long lost blog space of mine. Of course it was a spam post about ED pills or some such damn thing, but the email served to remind me that I have this space here and that I abandoned it entirely in favor of what I thought was going to become a more regular space related to my monthly <a href="http://realrunning.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Northwest Runner </a>column (which I know you are all reading religiously anyway...but just in case you aren't, you can click the link and be swept over there instantly.) <br />
<br />
Best plans and all that...I post my columns there and a few people read them, but the combination of limited subject matter and lack of real interest from my publisher has made that blog look like one of those Halloween stores in August.<br />
<br />
So instead of working harder to fix the problems with the Real Running blog, I stupidly compounded the problem by starting yet another well-intentioned but doomed blog. <a href="http://gvb-thenonproject.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Non Project </a>was going to work. But then it didn't. I blame Congress. Anyway, even though I liked the idea of that one, it was one too many. <br />
<br />
So as I was sitting at my desk today feeling guilty for over-indulging in recreational social media (to be contrasted with the sort of meaningful social media work people like <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/hayden-bixby" target="_blank">Hayden</a> and <a href="http://lamiki.com/" target="_blank">Laura</a> are doing) and feeling even more guilty for not reading the manuscript DVB just sent me (I'll get to it!), I decided to dig up my old login information and come back here. <br />
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I wanted my old space back. Where I could post race reports, rant about politics, link to my friend's more important projects, and basically just haunt the blogosphere a bit. So here we go.<br />
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I'll sweep up the cobwebs a bit, maybe throw a coat of paint on, and get to work making this a semi-respectful if purposeless project. You're warned.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-46655889166731906262010-02-02T15:40:00.001-08:002010-02-02T15:42:34.688-08:00Real Running is LiveI hope both of my readers will join me over on my new blog project: <a href="http://realrunning.blogspot.com">Real Running</a>.<br />Real Running is a new feature of Northwest Runner magazine. I will have a monthly piece in the magazine and a weekly blog update.<br /><br />Come on. Be my first followers!<br /><br />You can also Real Running on Twitter: <a href="http://twitter.com/realrunning">http://twitter.com/realrunning</a>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-90539053581998513632009-12-16T15:44:00.000-08:002009-12-16T16:05:14.575-08:00The Road. To Recovery. Not the Cormac McCarthy Abomination...<span style="font-weight: bold;">Back on the Road</span><br />It has officially been 2 weeks since the Seattle Marathon, during which my suspension went out at about mile 21 or so. After doing my chores around the house today (I'm such a loyal house elf!) I could barely resist the urge to put on the mud shoes and go for a run in the pouring rain, but somehow I managed to show restraint (there's a first for everything) and instead pulled the old neglected Fuji off the hooks and took her out for a little 12 mile spin from The Shack to Matthews Beach and back.<br /><br />One way to assure solitude on the Burke Gilman Trail is to ride it during a winter monsoon! It was actually glorious to ride through the wet leaves and puddles and never see another soul. Truly glorious. Of course, the Fuji is in desperate need of a tune up, and my riding is horrible and hesitant. But still, it's exercise.<br /><br />The verdict? 12 mile at around 20 miles per hour and the killer climb back up to The Shack and no apparent problems. Great, right?<br /><br />I'm not so sure. Being a lifetime skeptic, I have at least a little bit of me that was hoping there was some muscle pain after the ride. Why does it only hurt when I run on it? Is it really as simple as the iliopsoas strain Dr. Hilarious thinks it is?<br /><br />We'll see. Next up: an easy 3 miles tomorrow on The Boringest Oval on Earth.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">In Other News</span><br /><ul><li><a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/baseball/archives/188384.asp">The Seattle Mariners are threatening to play actual baseball next year.</a> This particular know-it-all fan and armchair critic thinks they are now only one Jason Bay signing away from contending for the American League pennant. </li><li>Yours truly is going to spend the next 3-4 months trying to actually get <a href="http://northlakerunners.blogspot.com/">Northlake Runners </a>up and, well, running. If you read this blog, you should read the other and help get the numbers going. Once spring hits I hope we'll be holding regular group runs. Also keep on the lookout for an Ebook of local running routes and recommendations...T-shirts and stickers coming soon, too!<br /></li><li>I'm a fan of beer in general, but I want to just remind everyone that it is winter ale season, and if you haven't had a few Snow Cap Ales from Pyramid Brewing, you are behind schedule. Snow Cap is the best winter ale. Sorry Deschutes and Redhook (Jubelale and Winterhook, respectively). Pyramid makes one truly good beer, and this is it. Rumor is that I am running low at the moment.</li><li>I read somewhere that ink jet ink is the single most expensive liquid a regular consumer can purchase. After refilling all three household printers today, I believe it. What kind of racket is this?<br /></li><li>This morning the following picture come across my screen saver slide show, and realizing it was but mid-December, I wept quietly in the dark corner of my office:<br /></li></ul><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SIsgI7OS4oUwrd0vAPZGaiYUPvh_F4wGhabpJdr-RKmqIFg3rfXkJnQ6fSjz8U8fx_d5RD6j9MwEx3_tL68Tf2hLGuHwqDWne62tW29Efz0aJYz8k16JLA5bDCOPLNEGc9ld/s1600-h/DSC02437.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SIsgI7OS4oUwrd0vAPZGaiYUPvh_F4wGhabpJdr-RKmqIFg3rfXkJnQ6fSjz8U8fx_d5RD6j9MwEx3_tL68Tf2hLGuHwqDWne62tW29Efz0aJYz8k16JLA5bDCOPLNEGc9ld/s320/DSC02437.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415989370848334194" border="0" /></a>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-87457111407363170592009-12-14T10:05:00.000-08:002009-12-14T10:12:52.156-08:00Around Alone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrewvT4GOa7UhPB4OoXIpJ4PwBL5kiynj1Vl_aagbkVXeX2KJDK73pkhNkuPztZ01if1DzS-kdnd65p0-tx2iNdpkNbH3uMzeGpbWrO2650hC_AyNXIUSv0L64RHwvKT1ml_H/s1600-h/Picture+5.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrewvT4GOa7UhPB4OoXIpJ4PwBL5kiynj1Vl_aagbkVXeX2KJDK73pkhNkuPztZ01if1DzS-kdnd65p0-tx2iNdpkNbH3uMzeGpbWrO2650hC_AyNXIUSv0L64RHwvKT1ml_H/s320/Picture+5.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415156002255723570" border="0" /></a><br />Just in case any of you are out there looking for something to do with your gobs of leisure time, be sure to <a href="http://www.jessicawatson.com.au/">follow the adventure of 16 year old Jessica Watson,</a> who is attempting to become the youngest person to sail solo, unassisted, non-stop, around the world.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youngestround.blogspot.com/">Her blog is fascinating.</a> She is so clearly a kid (she recently installed safety straps down below for her stuffed animal "crew" in anticipation of the rough conditions in the Southern Ocean) but she is handling the fear, loneliness, and boredom with the sort of honesty and self-consciousness that you wouldn't expect from someone so young.<br /><br />What were you doing when you were 16? Not this.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-8683215597973560452009-12-03T17:14:00.000-08:002009-12-04T17:39:42.348-08:00It's Hip to be Hurt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ESOraAbXo2bHNSng5xkCyCjYuEBUR-ORt4La7U-xzKKzDMz8_3TC0X6vSKTl2Yj5S6MMfhPG3PHLSDP30WdZiYca0-b9gx-8BcKh5R9NYU7Tl4fEbvKI8-tCxgrGNDHAE_DA/s1600-h/iliopsoas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ESOraAbXo2bHNSng5xkCyCjYuEBUR-ORt4La7U-xzKKzDMz8_3TC0X6vSKTl2Yj5S6MMfhPG3PHLSDP30WdZiYca0-b9gx-8BcKh5R9NYU7Tl4fEbvKI8-tCxgrGNDHAE_DA/s320/iliopsoas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411554366549669602" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">More adventures with Dr. Hilarious</span><br /><br />After my total train wreck at the Seattle Marathon last week, I went to see Dr. Hilarious (now sporting the Daughtry shaved-head, full beard look...not good on anyone but Daughtry) about my Hip pain.<br /><br />He asked me the usual question: "Why do you keep running?"<br /><br />But then he very professionally launched into his 5 minute diagnosis, which involved torquing my leg around and pushing and pulling on my feet and legs:<br /><br />Q: Does this hurt?<br />A: If does when you f-ing yank on it like that, yes. Yes it does.<br /><br />Q: How bad is the pain?<br />A: It hurts just about as much as listening to Hannah Montana, but not as much as listening to Lady Gaga.<br /><br />He poked around a little more and isolated the pain point, eliminating some other possible problems. He seemed satisfied that it wasn't some internal organ going on strike and that nothing was broken or totally destroyed.<br /><br />You gotta love it when your doctor says, "This is the first time I've ever seen a patient actually manage to do this. Good job! You hear about this injury in med school, but you never see it. Awesome. <a href="http://www.thestretchinghandbook.com/archives/iliopsoas-tendonitis.php">You injured the iliopsoas muscle in your hip!"</a><br /><br />He seemed very excited.<br /><br />The iliopsis is one of the big core muscles that you use all the time. Sitting, standing, walking, running...everything. And like the hernia I suffered before, this is an injury that occurs late in training after the other muscles have fatigued and given up. The leg muscles get tired, the ab muscles get tired, and they all figure that big old muscle that is keeping you upright can take over and hold things together for a while. This explains why it was sore after training runs of 18 miles or more and why everything felt great in the race until mile 20 or so.<br /><br />I'm getting a little sick of this whole injury thing, but at least this one doesn't require Dr. (Do No) Harm to cut into me. What it requires is resting the muscle (impossible unless you are floating in zero gravity, by the way) and some investigation into my running stride and my shoes.<br /><br />And like I said I was going to do before, I need to actually suck it up and do some core strength training. I thought my rippling, chiseled six-pack abs were enough, but apparently I need to do more. We can all get together an bounce quarters off my stomach sometime this spring.<br /><br />In the meantime, off we go to the podiatrist! I can't help but entertain images of clunking around in corrective shoes and leg braces. Run Forrest, Run!<br /><br />So the good doc charged out of the room after writing me a referral and went to deal with his 30th patient with a cold who thought they were dying from swine flu. Awesome.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Useless Data Department</span><br /><ul><li>In the past 365 days I have logged 965 miles of running, burning 74,000 calories.</li><li>There are 8 pair of running shoes in my closet, but only really like 3 of them. One is brand new and will likely never see a single mile of running. Why do I keep them?</li><li>Of the 90 students who started the term in my English 101 classes, 50 submitted a final paper.</li><li>I have looked at the Fuji - currently hanging in my office - 24 times in the last week and thought: I should really ride that thing more often.</li><li>I have taken the Fuji off the hooks and out for a ride 0 times in the last 4 months.</li><li>I have recently noticed my speech habit of saying "I mean..." to start sentences and when I reach 5 instances of using the phrase in one conversation I punish myself by listening to a podcast of MathDude.</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Upcoming</span>...<br /><br />With Owen pushing, it looks like I might get some trail shoes and take to the mountains for some of my next training plan. Seems like a decent idea, and maybe it will keep me from injury? Who knows. But I don't mind getting dirty once in a while.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Also Upcoming...</span><br /><br />Work has started on a new running club up here on the northend of the lake. Look for a website, a book of running routes, and some Facebook presence soon! I'll expect both of my readers to join us, of course.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Please Leave a Message</span><br /><br />If you are receiving this message between June 19th and July 7th, 2010, GVB will be unavailable while he travels with The Colleague and several students in Kenya. Beeeeeeep.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-4843747023732636832009-11-30T10:56:00.000-08:002009-11-30T12:38:14.585-08:00Race Report: Seattle Marathon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZZJ1oqow-Zz1OZYLd4JmdINOU5NrfnxXYSzxkvWYdix8JhdS1Dv9wfqK-CgN0Zk6qTbSuFw13tEDyY9bBiswxieplnltI5RnET_xpqPn4nFKr-ZzOuUlK-HcQF-WzsS8gNgH/s1600/seattlemarathonlogo_full.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZZJ1oqow-Zz1OZYLd4JmdINOU5NrfnxXYSzxkvWYdix8JhdS1Dv9wfqK-CgN0Zk6qTbSuFw13tEDyY9bBiswxieplnltI5RnET_xpqPn4nFKr-ZzOuUlK-HcQF-WzsS8gNgH/s320/seattlemarathonlogo_full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409974172598756082" border="0" /></a><br />My second attempt at the Seattle Marathon was both much, much better than the first and much, much worse. My initial Twitter and Facebook post after the race said that I finished and that I didn't want to talk about it. It's true: I did finish. But I guess I'll tell you about it after all.<br /><br />I know both of my readers have been waiting for the blow-by-blow of my latest 26.2 mile adventure, so here it is. I should note that whatever is depleted from my brain while running a marathon has yet to be fully restored, so the words that follow might become incomprehensible at some point.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pre-Race</span><br />Leading up to the race I felt pretty damn good. I had four good long runs under my belt, two of them at 20 miles. I wasn't injured. The weather forecast was good. I had a good race plan. I was even pretty damn close to my desired race weight for the first time.<br /><br />All of that didn't stop me from the usual pre-race insomnia, however. As is always the case, I went to bed early and pretty much just lay there listening to The Colleague sleep. That girl can sleep. Who knows how much sleep I actually got. The alarm rang at 4:30 and I had a solid breakfast, tested before my last long run (toast, banana and black coffee...not my usual go-to meal).<br /><br />The Colleague delivered me to Seattle Center one-hour before the start, which gave me plenty of time to make it over to the double-secret indoor, heated bathrooms at Memorial Stadium. While thousands of half marathoners queued for the port-o-johns, I had a leisurely time of it with a few people who must have also been given the secret map to the hidden bathroom deep beneath the aging stadium. By the way, the news this week that the city and the Seattle School District plan to tear down Memorial Stadium will present an interesting task for the marathon organizers...can a Quest Field start and a new course be that far off? Why not start as in the parking lot at Quest and save the leg down 5th Avenue for the finish? (I know the reason: traffic control...but I'm just putting it out there.)<br /><br />I looked for the usual suspects around the starting area: RPD was somewhere in the masses of half-marathoners, Owen was milling about waiting for the marathon start...but I didn't see either of them.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Start</span><br />The starting area - while too damn small for the 10,000 half-marathoners, is just about right for the number of people running the full 26.2. No need to fight to the front and no worries about herding like cattle through the starting chutes.<br /><br />I have to say that the start of the Seattle Marathon is pretty lame. The announcer has a shrill, annoying voice, and there is no music or anything going on. They bring in some afternoon DJ from a local pop station who says something stupid and trite, and then they start the race. Every race director should have to go visit the Vancouver Marathon or the Sun Run 10k to see how it should be done.<br /><br />Soon enough it was 8:15 a.m. and we were off.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The City</span><br />Miles one and two head straight through downtown on 5th Avenue. After the uphill start there is a long flat section before climbing as we cross Pike and Pine Streets. Then a long downhill toward Chinatown and King Street Station. Once the race passes the Westin, though, the city is a ghost town. A few rats and some seagulls cheered us on as we approached mile two. Hi guys.<br /><br />My plan was to go out around 8:00/mile or and see how things felt. At mile two I was averaging 7:45/mile and felt good. I jogged through the water station, had both Gatorade and water, and sucked it up for the climb up onto I-90.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Bridge</span><br />Every god damn year this is a problem. Where the course hits the on-ramp to I-90 near the stadiums, the marathon runners catch up with the half-marathon walkers and some of the slowest marathon walkers. I have NO issues with people walking the course. I think it's great to see everyone out there. But when there is only one traffic lane available to runners and the walkers have been directed to stay on the other side of the barrier, why do large groups of walkers insist on clogging up up the course? One very large group, bedazzled with bells and doodads, was taking up most of the running lane. I guy in front of me yelled at them, I almost collided with one of them when they turned to take a picture of the runners coming up behind them. What the hell?<br /><br />Still, I reached the top of the ramp holding a nice 7:45 pace. My heart rate was low (160 bpm) and things were feeling good all around. No hernia repair twinges, no sore feet, so muscle pain. Here we go! I shed my 99 cent cotton gloves before the Mount Baker Tunnel (which I still think is the worst part of the course...it's hot, it's loud, and it's chaotic) turned on the iPod, and cruised through to the bridge. This is one of my favorite parts of the course, and I ran these miles fast, knocking my average pace down to 7:30 by the time the out and back was done.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lake Washington Boulevard, Southbound</span><br />With the flashing lights on the police escort for the lead runners barely visible down in Seward Park, I started the southbound slog along the lake. A little headwind kept things cool, and I just cruised along here listening to some choice tunes from Elbow and Marc Cohn. My I stopped checking my watch in here because the tunnel had thrown off my GPS track and it was .25 miles off from the mile markers. Instead I relied on the time keepers at each mile and my feeble brain to calculate my pace. I'm so dense mathematically that it takes a whole mile to figure out my pace, and then I have to do it again! That kept my brain occupied, anyway. 7:30 per mile. Hmmm.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Seward Park</span><br />Seward Park is pretty and everything, but having the 13.1 mile split out there on the peninsula is kind of a drag. It's so lonely! I also didn't hear the little machine go "beep" when I crossed the mat, so I knew I wasn't going to get my split in my official results and started worrying that my chip wasn't working.<br /><br />With a split of 1:39:50, though, I knew I was on a strong pace. I wasn't tired, and I felt a ton better than I had at this point the previous year. 14 miles was where Owen dropped me last time as I fell back into the 8:00s and he cruised to a 3:20:00 finish. This year I came out of Seward Park on pace and feeling great. Heart rate check? 162 bpm. Still not pushing. Good news.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lake Washington Boulevard Northbound</span><br />A little wind on my back, no crowds, good tunes and visions of a strong finish made miles 14-18 great. I knew all I needed to do was get up and over the Madison Street climb and I was home free. At mile 18 I walked a few steps to get a good drink of water and some Gatorade (and to eat Gu pack #4).<br /><br />When I picked my stride back up after the water station, my right hip, which had been a little sore following my previous two long runs, shot a jolt of pain through my side that made me gnash my teeth and take a little stutter step. Ouch.<br /><br />We're talking real pain here. Worse than the torn muscle in Portland a few years ago. I couldn't believe it.<br /><br />At mile 18 or 19 you are getting into survival territory anyway, and the emotions are running pretty high. I tried a few more strides and the pain was just as bad. I walked a few steps and it still hurt - though less so - every time my right foot hit the pavement. No no no no no!<br /><br />Damn it!<br /><br />I pulled to the side and tried stretching it out, twisting my leg around, rubbing my hip bone...and tried to keep going. Ouch ouch ouch ouch.<br /><br />I still have no idea what the problem is, and a day after the race it still hurts pretty bad, though it is getting better slowly. I'm resisting self-diagnosis and will see Dr. Hilarious this week for the inevitable lecture on how running is stupid (see previous post and the transcript of any number of conversations between me and The Colleague). No doubt this will end in some referrals to physical therapists and podiatrists. Update to come.<br /><br />So I'm at mile 18.5. I can't run. But I can't quit either. My idiot logic tells me at this point to run a mile with the pain to see if it gets worse. So I grit my teeth and run at about an 11:00 pace through the next mile.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Galer Street and The Arboretum</span><br />Watch these splits and try to pinpoint where the wheels come off completely:<br /><br />Mile 16: 7:42<br />Mile 17: 8:15<br />Mile 18: 8:14<br />Mile 19: 9:10<br />Mile 20: 8:39<br />Mile 21: 11:39<br />Mile 22: 12:42<br /><br />If you picked mile 21, congratulations! That's where I just couldn't bite my lip hard enough to work through the pain and keep a decent pace.<br /><br />I just couldn't do it any more. The pain was unbearable. As I limped up Galer Street and over Madison, I started to lose it. I wanted to quit but I couldn't! The Colleague and the offspring were at the finish line, watching the clock approach my goal time (3:30:00). I knew that once the clock hit 3:31:00 The Colleague would be disappointed for me. And I knew that when it hit 3:45:00 she would start to worry. If it hit 4:00:00 she'd know something was really wrong.<br /><br />I could stop at the medical tent and have them call her and tell her I was done. Yep. That's what I'll do. Problem: In my runner's stupor, with my body going into survival mode, I could not, no matter how hard I tried, come up with her phone number. I think I got all of the numbers right, but not in the right order. Damn.<br /><br />For some reason I "ran" by the medical tent on Madison street and made my way to the Arboretum. I love this part of the course, but I have yet to get to it with any hope of actually running it. Somewhere in here is where I managed to calculate what it would take to finish under 4 hours. If I couldn't do that, I wasn't going to finish. A 13 minute pace would do it. 13 minutes per mile for 4 miles, much of it downhill. Ok. Let's go.<br /><br />You can't call what I did for the last 4 miles actual running. I don't think my right foot ever left the pavement. It was more of a slide-step. But I held 13:00/mile. I stopped at the water stations and drank my fill. I joined the other dead runners as we zombied our way toward Memorial Stadium. 4 miles of pure agony, but I figured it was better to go as fast as possible and get it over with than to walk it and keep The Colleague worrying about me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Finish</span><br />With about 4 minutes to spare under the 4 hour mark, I came into the stadium, trying not to cry when I saw The Colleague and the offspring. For no calculated reason I ran right over to them, grabbed the kids, lifted them over the fence and ran to the finish holding their hands.<br /><br />That little moment made the run worth it. I hope there is a picture of the finish out there somewhere...<br /><br />I've written here before about the emotions of marathon running and the impossibility of expressing them to others. I went through about every feeling I can imagine during this race, and I can honestly say that I would have quit at mile 20 if The Colleague hadn't been at the finish. Thanks, as always, for being out there babe.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Aftermath</span><br />It's the day after as I write this and aside from being tired and hungry, most of my body has recovered nicely (no doubt the self-administered internal alcohol therapy last night helped...beer is a recovery beverage, right?). My hip hurts like hell and I am walking like some sort of B-movie monster. Running is stupid and marathon running is ridiculous.<br /><br />Still, let's get this injury figured out, correct whatever caused it, and start training for LA in March. I'm in.<br /><br />I'm going to get that PR sooner or later, and a trip to Boston is still the goal.<br /><br />I'm convincing myself to wear my Finisher shirt with a little pride. I didn't quit. 3:57:40. Worst. Time. Ever.<br /><br /><a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/othersports/2010385890_marathon30.html">I did get beat by Elvis, though...</a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycTcpeo4c-9wbCry72B78auKWTNJyNZOPEu9CwaOfFrwJXFOHbKtk3XqoqK5cza-tGVlJSgIYCXYYUFamJyBxL0St9O8JC-tjY29CExekZyHEyOBlVxmQ7XD_HM9e1FRowpq2/s1600/seattle_marathon_elvis.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycTcpeo4c-9wbCry72B78auKWTNJyNZOPEu9CwaOfFrwJXFOHbKtk3XqoqK5cza-tGVlJSgIYCXYYUFamJyBxL0St9O8JC-tjY29CExekZyHEyOBlVxmQ7XD_HM9e1FRowpq2/s320/seattle_marathon_elvis.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409998632048216162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Thanks for coming. Don't forget to tip your waitress.GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-22680385675875260882009-11-11T19:56:00.001-08:002009-11-11T20:39:10.744-08:00What Running Is<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmi4vLVuS3gO51MiH2s1femh6RVSr39pHjWJiO5cxUa-3FhHA_fVWtAzWh7CTfwGD35fs-QZJoObzhyphenhyphenm_eZ3En_iyqgRHfqsmNYSllBRLOzMuOT-rHpXY9BQz-GYWOWCFDnWqt/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmi4vLVuS3gO51MiH2s1femh6RVSr39pHjWJiO5cxUa-3FhHA_fVWtAzWh7CTfwGD35fs-QZJoObzhyphenhyphenm_eZ3En_iyqgRHfqsmNYSllBRLOzMuOT-rHpXY9BQz-GYWOWCFDnWqt/s320/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403072028194139234" border="0" /></a><br />As I sit writing this, I am woozy and sore from a 20 mile training run.<br /><br />For those of you out there who are thinking about running, who used to run, or who have delusions of running as a "fun" recreational activity, let me step in and offer some thoughts:<br /><ol><li>Running is stupid.<br /></li><li>Running is hard.</li><li>Running isn't cool.</li><li>Running leads to more running.</li><li>See #1.</li></ol>Running is, indeed, stupid. It destroys your ankles, does harm to your joints, <a href="http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/30/phys-ed-how-do-marathons-affect-your-heart/">and might actually damage your heart</a>. Yep. All that crap you read in running magazines about running being good for you is bunk. Ask any doctor. CAN running be good for you? Yep. A little bit of light running, once in a while, on soft surfaces, as part of a larger workout scheme is a great idea. 50 miles a week on pavement in $150 shoes preparing for a 26.2 mile "race" that you can't win (and that you will probably run in unsupportive "race" shoes that weigh 6 ounces)? Stupid. Plus, running 40-50 miles a week in training for a marathon means you have sliced at least 6 hours, and likely much more, out of your productive life and devoted it to running around town with no destination, and with no one chasing you. Let's not forget that the human foot was never meant to interact with surfaces like pavement. We shouldn't have to wear running shoes at all, except that most of our running haunts are paved. Poorly, I might add.<br /><br />Some people call running "challenging," but let's be real for a minute. It's hard damn work. Short runs are hard because you never get the chance to warm up. Medium length runs are hard because you feel like you should really push and challenge yourself because, after all, it isn't a long run. And long runs are just plain torture. Depending on which "expert" you believe (side note: more running experts are just runners who can write decently) your body stops burning carbohydrate fuel and starts trying to burn fat and muscle for fuel after 2 hours of continuous exertion. For a nine-minute miler that's a half marathon. This is like a college party with a nice campfire. After a couple of hours, the actual firewood you have carefully brought along in anticipation of a fun night at the campground with your friends runs out, and since you've had 12 Keystone Lights and smoked something that dude over there handed to you, it seems perfectly reasonable to set the picnic table ablaze. Then the floor mats of your roommate's car. Then, what the hell, let's see if that thing over there burns!* Once that happens, every step is a deliberative action in which your brain has to wage war against your body in order to keep it moving forward. Forgetting for a minute that your muscles have decided they are done, your joints suddenly hurt again, your shoes are running you in the wrong places, and those mother----ing earbuds for your iPod keep slipping around and are driving you bat sh&% crazy, even your brain starts to rebel. And you're doing this why? Oh that's right, so it will be easier to do even more of it next week.<br /><br />Go down to the local running trail in your street clothes and watch the runners go by. What assholes! Now look around at the other people who came down to watch the runners. Oh, there aren't any? That's right. Because running isn't cool. Potential running spectators only come out to races because they know something runners don't: running is stupid (see above). They aren't out there to cheer you on. They're out there to watch a few thousand uncool stupid people punish themselves for 4 hours. And they get special joy in the fact that we paid for the privilege of suffering not only for those 4 hours (3:30 if you're lucky) but for the days following when we will limp around the office wearing our "Marathon Finisher" shirts (which we paid $95 for). Nope. Running isn't cool. Bering Sea crab fishing is cool. Really good sushi chefs are cool. Runners are dorks. No way around it. Even my friend Owen, the most tattooed dude at any local race (and an accomplished ULTRA marathoner) is a geek. Running isn't cool.<br /><br />But the big problem with running is that like any stupid addiction, it only leads to more running. You run a half-marathon and BAM! you're in line to register for the next one. Or worse, you decide you need to graduate to the full 26.2 miles. So then you go out and load up on expensive shoes, technical fabric shorts and shirts, special running underwear that is supposed to be odor resistant (doesn't work), and a few handfuls of GU packets. You subscribe to an online training plan. You start cooking recipes you find in Runners World.<br /><br />Next thing you know, you are writing a lame-ass blog about your own running exploits, thinking stupidly that someone out there cares.<br /><br />Yep. Running is stupid.<br /><br />Next up, the Seattle Marathon. I'm stupid.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*Any similarity to a fraternity weekend yours truly spent at Ocean Shores is completely coincidental. And also it really happened.</span>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-89137359010067794472009-09-10T13:35:00.000-07:002009-09-16T09:29:28.927-07:00The Weighting Game<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAIvha7oaUvEVOhEWDBKrPA3g0Ni-LwbWvgW7JgJ8F71GJdXgCSv8h7g_NxojQYviwfXS6WLITuMOO9fsE-Yg0HnDVQS9uwrh6OMyO0t0MNEd8OMMMtbmu1H-HWllQzPeR8cT/s1600-h/wii_fit_box_back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPAIvha7oaUvEVOhEWDBKrPA3g0Ni-LwbWvgW7JgJ8F71GJdXgCSv8h7g_NxojQYviwfXS6WLITuMOO9fsE-Yg0HnDVQS9uwrh6OMyO0t0MNEd8OMMMtbmu1H-HWllQzPeR8cT/s320/wii_fit_box_back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379940992208246386" border="0" /></a><br />The kids got Wii Fit from Grandma not that long ago. And by "the kids" I mean me, because I'm the one who uses it most. The damn thing is just so cute the way it talks to me about my morbid obesity! Besides that, the kids are all in shape and healthy.<br /><br />I tend to think the Wii technology is crazy witchcraft voodoo anyway, so I will admit that the experience is often a little bit creepy for me. The little animated Wii Fit board waves at me and talks to me about my fitness goals, for example. And it asks me when I ate dinner. Which is fine and awfully polite and all, but I can't answer back because I don't speak Wii.<br /><br />Anyway, in addition to doing some virtual ski jumping, snowboarding, and soccer drills, I've taken to using the Wii Fit thing to track my weight as the training for Seattle ramps up. In theory I could also use it to work on some yoga poses, but those virtual yoga teachers are creepy. Seriously.<br /><br />With the Wii Fit tracking my BMI and weight, I feel this weird accountability. It's like the thing actually cares or makes judgment about my weight. And damn it, I want to make that machine happy! It sets little goals for me, and I love to see the line track toward those goals.<br /><br />But I know I am disappointing the Wii because I can't seem to really lose weight. It's starting to piss me off.<br /><br />I'm training 35-40 miles a week, I have a pretty decent diet (except for the beer, of course) and it's not like I'm just sitting around all the time when I'm not running. What the hell?!<br /><br />My weight as I sit here being taunted by the Wii Fit Balance Board is 180. I'm 5'11", so this is right on the edge of "Overweight" by the Wii's standards (and the BMI chart at Dr. Hilarious's office, too). Overweight? Damn. What does that make all the people I see on the streets? If I'm officially overweight, what category do they use to describe the people that even overweight people think are obese?<br /><br />My weight goal for the Seattle Marathon is 170-175. I have plenty of time still, but things are going to have to start moving in the right direction here pretty soon.<br /><br />I really want to see what the Wii says when I reach a goal. It better throw a little virtual party for me with all my Mii friends in attendance...GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-32965594064881116642009-09-08T07:17:00.000-07:002009-09-08T10:34:28.658-07:00Another 13.1. With Complaints!Yesterday I laced up the racing shoes and drove to the <a href="http://www.redhook.com/Default.aspx?p=36">Red Hook Brewery</a> to stand in line in the rain with a couple thousand of my closest friends. And that was just the first hour and a half of the day...<br /><br />This is the third year for me at the <a href="http://www.superjocknjill.com/superjockhalf2009/index.html">Super Jock and Jill Half Marathon</a>, and as both of you will remember, I really like the race. It ends at a brewery, for one thing, and it is a flat, fast course that winds through a lot of my training routes. Support on the course is excellent, and it's generally a good time followed by a couple of beers. I never have managed to get RPD or Cap'n Ron out there with me (this year Cap'n had some excuse about a motorcycle trip, which I have yet to see photographic evidence of, and RPD was apparently in Canada enjoying natural wonder. Silly.)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Complaint Box</span><br />Let me get my gripes out the way first. I know all of my readers at Super Jock and Jill will take my commentary to heart and make some changes for next year.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Prepaid Torture</span><br />When I purchase tickets in advance for a show or a movie, I expect there to be some benefit for the effort. The organizers get the benefit of having my money in advance (complete with a "no-refund" policy), what do I get? A guaranteed shirt size? Since Brooks ends up selling the remaindered technical shirts at the their outlet store a week after the race, I don't think this is really an issue. I arrived 10 minutes before the packet pick up table was supposed to open to find a line snaking from the Red Hook loading dock out onto the street and almost to the winery next door. As every poor pre-paid schlub walked up, he or she asked the same hopeful question: "Is this line for day of race registration?"<br /><br />Nope. This is for those of us who already paid.<br /><br />At this point we had an hour to get our packets, use the Honey Buckets, stretch, and whatever. (Of course the Honey Bucket lines were horrid also, but this is just the fact of pre-race. Every race. <span style="font-style: italic;">Everybody Poops</span>, after all.)<br /><br />The line did move mercifully fast (30 minutes for me) but come on. It's pouring rain out here!<br /><br />Oh, and by the way, the day of race "line" wrapped around the building, under cover. What lesson am I being taught by this?<br /><br />So next year, here is what I would like to see:<br /><ol><li>A more significant pre-paid discount. $5 is hardly a motivator on its own.</li><li>The ability to register in person at the venue (why Red Hook hasn't picked up on this money-maker is beyond me...)</li><li>The ability to pick up my packet before the race. Every other race on earth does this. Sure there has to be a cut-off date, but I would happily drive to Greenlake to get my packet the day or week before the race to avoid standing in long lines on race day.</li></ol><span style="font-style: italic;">Start Line Antics</span><br />This race is getting big. Far too big for the starting line configuration they have relied on for the last 1o years. There is plenty of room for everyone. Sure. But there is no starting mat, so only the very front line gets an accurate race time. We need starting mats!<br /><br />The race directors say the city won't let them close the road long enough to put the mats down. Well, tough. Make up a new starting line configuration. Start at the winery. Start in the brewery. Something. Without a mat, runners crowd to the front of the queue and no one gets a good start. The course opens up so quickly after the start that I would opt to hang back and start at a good pace rather than fight to be first off the line. I feel like an idiot lining up with the 5 minute milers, but you have to in order to get out at a good clip.<br /><br />Oh, they also start the four-mile race at the same time as the half marathon. Which doesn't help.<br /><br />Also, I know the sponsor wants to get their money's worth out of this thing, but when we are standing at the start, I don't really want to listen to you pimp your running store. Why doesn't anyone play music at the start anymore? A nice upbeat mix leading to the starting gun?<br /><br />Or how about a course description for the new runners? Which reminds me...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg46Bfl6hh2Fp0N7hhocklxYsH80LJpJadWBD2DXb-Uq6fMRNdv9BBdHNeQAgRYvm0EXbx24PoC0AMWoD2utpPqM0deI-UePVroms8qUljEcssRtrWulTCb2x0kyZ9PsROn7j5A/s1600-h/SJJ_Course_2009.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg46Bfl6hh2Fp0N7hhocklxYsH80LJpJadWBD2DXb-Uq6fMRNdv9BBdHNeQAgRYvm0EXbx24PoC0AMWoD2utpPqM0deI-UePVroms8qUljEcssRtrWulTCb2x0kyZ9PsROn7j5A/s320/SJJ_Course_2009.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379110511444742882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The Course</span><br />I happen to work in one of those places where the "veterans" of the group like to rely on the "That's the way we've always done things" defense for stupid and outdated policies and procedures. I have a suspicion that a version of that is taking root at this race.<br /><br />The course is fine. It's a little funky in the middle where it winds in and out of the UW Bothell campus, but it is otherwise a nice run.<br /><br />This year, however, the first 4 miles were through a road construction zone, which I happened to know because that road is also the way to my dear old mom's house, so I've heard her complain about it endlessly and I've even run it a few times.<br /><br />A road construction zone means: pot holes, steel plates, uneven asphalt, loose gravel, very large yellow tractors and tractor-like machines, huge orange warning signs, etc.<br /><br />One: this segment of the course is avoidable (and fairly easily avoidable).<br />Two: the directors said nothing about it at the starting line. It wasn't mentioned in the course description on the website, and there were no warnings about it at all. Anywhere.<br /><br />Sorry SJJ folks, it's time to change the course. I have some suggestions for you if you like. Give me a call. For one thing, you have an industrial/commercial park the size of Rhode Island right across the highway.<br /><br />Ok. Enough complaining. Despite my gripes, it's still a good race. Honest. <a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/38477/saturday-night-live-update-thursday-fix-it">Just FIX IT.</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Race Report</span><br />Thanks for enduring the rants. I've had my coffee now, and am feeling much better. Honest.<br /><br />I haven't been training specifically for a half marathon, but I have been on my marathon training plan for a few weeks. So I came into this race feeling pretty good about surviving things. That said, I had no goal time and no sense of how I would hold up at race pace.<br /><br />Mile 1. 7:13. A full 20 seconds of this mile was spent fighting to the damn starting line. See above. Once I was running, I was right around a 7:00 pace and it felt reasonable, so I decided to stick between 7:00 and 7:30 for the race. 3 minutes into the race, I knew I was going to be too warm. The rain and the standing in line psyched me out and I put on a long sleeve shirt. Damn.<br /><br />Mile 2. 7:11. This is just boring old running. But I did pass the Vespa store where The Colleague picked up her new ride last week. Hi Vespa!<br /><br />Mile 3. 7:07. I picked up a mouth breather on my heels in this mile and couldn't really shake him. I think he was trying to draft me or something. I zigged and zagged a little to piss him off, but he didn't seem to notice. He sounded something like a Hippo surfacing for air. I have no doubt that he died somewhere along the route.<br /><br />Mile 4. 7:06. I made it through the construction zone. Barely. Twice I stepped wrong and almost rolled my ankle on the uneven pavement. Awesome. This mile also has the retirement home folks running the water station. I love it. Shaky hands handing out water and Gatorade to runners with shaky hands. Luckily the downpour we ran through was washing it all away into the river.<br /><br />Mile 5. 7:03. Mile 5 picks up the Samammish River Trail and heads through Bothell out to the UW campus. This is cruise control running for me because I run this segment three or four times a week. I did see one runner go down with a twisted knee from one of the tree roots that buckled the surface. It wasn't the Hippo Mouth Breather, though. I wonder what happened to him? Well no concern, because I picked up Weavy McWeavesAlot just after Bothell Landing. The trail is about 10 feet wide, and this dude was using the whole damn thing.<br /><br />Mile 6. 7:08. Still running fast here, but anticipating the big hill in mile 7. The old brain starts to do its psych job on me. That's about all I remember from this mile: "There's a hill coming and it wants to make you hurt."<br /><br />Mile 7. 7:35. Yep. That's a hill. Shit. I managed to kick through it pretty well, but spiked my heart rate and really gassed myself. My training runs on the same hill went much better. The sharp corners and slippery surfaces through here slowed me down some, too. Mostly, the mistake I made here was not taking advantage of the downhill segment after the climb to make the speed back up. I instead stayed slow to get my heart rate down more quickly.<br /><br />Mile 8. 7:11. Through downtown Bothell and back to the UW campus. Nice long downhill stretch to make up some time. Bonus: very upset pickup driver in Bothell who was not happy with having to wait for the racers to pass the intersection. The poor little volunteer at the corner was just being backed up by a cop, who was pissed at the driver, when I ran by. Good for a chuckle. (I should add here that the City of Bothell did nothing in advance to warn people that the roads would be closed for the race. When I drove through on the way to the race there were just lonely orange cones out, not a sign to be seen.)<br /><br />Mile 9. 7:29. Back to the campus craziness. Mile 9 is where I first saw Former College Friend, who said he wasn't running the race, pushing his friggin' jogging stroller along the course. With two kids in it. And he wasn't far behind me. What the hell, man? Last year he ran 10 miles TO the race and then ran a 1:38 AT the race. This year he shows up pushing his offspring around? No wonder he's going to Boston next year and I'm not. Damn.<br /><br />Mile 10. 7:14. Back to the trail for the push to the finish. I start doing the math in my head at this point and realize that I am close to my PR, but not close enough. I don't have a sub-7:00 mile in me, so I am just going to stick to my pace and ride it out. I don't love this part of the course, but it's flat and I know it pretty well, so I just put my head down and drag my ass along.<br /><br />Mile 11. 7:07. Hmmmm. A water stop helped me out here. And the headwind we were fighting let up a bit. Still, like the last miles of any race, I started to hit the wall and really, really wanted to be able to stop running.<br /><br />Mile 12. 7:26. Your feet are getting verrrry heavy.<br /><br />Mile 13. 7:20. I caught up with a runner I had been near for most of the race here. Turned out to be OTHER former college friend (who also ran Seattle last year). Fancy meeting you here. Can't talk now. And also, can't let you beat me. So, see ya.<br /><br />Mile 13.1. For all the other features of this course, the finish is totally cool. A single loop around the little amphitheater at Red Hook to a nice finishing chute. Done. 1:35:15.<br /><br />What? 1:35:15? Damn it! One minute shy of my PR.<br /><br />And what sucks is I know where that minute came from. 20 seconds of it are at the start. And the other 40 are in those last 3 miles. Should have pushed. Oh well. A good race, no injuries, and hardly any hypothermia.<br /><br />I chatted with Former College Friends at the finish for a bit and headed out. The brewery wasn't open yet anyway. Which brings me to my last complaint. WTF, RedHook? You can't open an hour early one day out of the year? Captive audience. Captive audience that wants beer. At least put a beer garden out there somewhere. How hard is that opportunity to recognize?GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-26192654100392049752009-08-31T08:23:00.000-07:002009-08-31T09:13:48.766-07:00Some of the Important Stuff is in the Parentheses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN8uHLBHKHDhC4kFG8wnEvMmvCbwXpRQLo3XsSdl3OP82Q4mXuGDeJgJZlQg2mImfiaBimFoWfr5JPWCem3LXY5ExgQztAuekHrr1UxpY_nsE3ngWEjyCbf_rhGbVdeLlj2wt/s1600-h/tl-parentheses_shirt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN8uHLBHKHDhC4kFG8wnEvMmvCbwXpRQLo3XsSdl3OP82Q4mXuGDeJgJZlQg2mImfiaBimFoWfr5JPWCem3LXY5ExgQztAuekHrr1UxpY_nsE3ngWEjyCbf_rhGbVdeLlj2wt/s320/tl-parentheses_shirt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376160873249596226" border="0" /></a><br />After a summer full of travel and mayhem, we are back at The Shack, getting settled in and ready for another season of knowledge at The Learning Factory. Several things are happening at once:<br /><br />-Training for the Seattle Marathon has started (I have a workout calendar and everything!)<br />-The Colleague's birthday is fast approaching (<a href="http://thecolleaguedoesnthaveawebsite.blogspot.com/">Remember when she didn't have a website?</a>)<br />-The kids are clothed and fed and basically prepped for school (The eldest offspring of The Colleague officially starts high school course work this year. Yikes.)<br />-The new seasons of Project Runway and Top Chef are on (I have nothing parenthetically witty to say about that.)<br />-The Old New Boat is <a href="http://capedory27.blogspot.com/">under renovations</a> (and the task of finding and installing the new engine is haunting my nights and days.)<br />-RPD <a href="http://rocksnroots.blogspot.com/">is logging hellish miles in strange places</a> (and making me wonder if I should take this running thing a little more seriously than I do? Ah well.)<br />-Wildfires are burning out of control near Pasadena (just when Pasadena and I were really starting to get along!)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">(S)training</span><br />Both of my readers are aware that I am not great at sticking to a workout plan. I do the miles just fine, but I have a hard time reigning myself in. If I'm slated for a 10 miler, I run 12. If I'm supposed to run at 30 seconds over race pace, I run at race pace. I'm horrible. Which, of course, is why I get hurt all the time. Doy.<br /><br />So I'm trying really hard to keep it together this time. I even retired my favorite shoes because I know they're shot and I know if I keep running in them I'm going to break or tear something. RIP, Favorite Shoes That Aren't Made Anymore. (So what if I have 3 other pair of the same shoes? Shut up. It's not the same.)<br /><br />So far the training is going pretty well, thank you. Last week I did almost 35 miles total, and this week will be the same (though broken up differently). My longest outing so far topped 12 miles and I did it at the pace I was supposed to (I'm still planning on 7:30 to 7:40 per mile in the 'Thon, so I'm running my long runs at 8:00-8:10) and felt great at the end. I even stopped and walked a half mile at the finish to cool down and stretch, which proves unconditionally that I can use my brain when necessary*. (It doesn't hurt that the last half mile is a 400 foot climb back up the hill to The Shack.)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*Note: Of course, the one time I choose to walk the hill is also when the Kenlake Posse is out in full force. Hi fellas. I'm walking because I'm supposed to. Honest. Not because I'm weak. Oh, and I'm NOT listening to Norah Jones on these headphones. Nope. It's heavy metal or something manly. Honest.<br /><br /></span>On that same long run I detoured a bit and ran a couple of miles of the <a href="http://www.superjocknjill.com/superjockhalf2009/course.html">Super Jock and Jill Half Marathon course </a>(the hilly miles) to get my brain ready for next weekend's race. After my disastrous showing at the Tacoma Half, I'm determined to have a good race. (No PR attempt here, I am still coming off surgery after all). Anything under 1:40:00 will be just fine with me...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Birthday Wishes</span><br /><br />Dear Colleague,<br />I hope you like your present. And thank you for not being one of those women who frets about birthdays, tries to hide her age, and says she doesn't want anything as a gift when really she knows exactly what she wants and if she doesn't get the right thing punishes the boyfriend silently for it for weeks. Thanks for that.<br /><br />Also, this note in my lame blog is your birthday gift. Surprise!<br /><br />-g<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Reality Television</span><br /><br />I do love DVR technology. Without it I would miss such gems as Top Chef, Ace of Cakes, Project Runway, and The Real House Wives of Orange County. These are so bad they're good. And when I'm not burying my head in the pillow and weeping over the demise of what little culture this country had left, I thoroughly enjoy watching these nobody wannabe actors and D-Listers fight it out for my pleasure. I'm a sick, sick man.<br /><br />Also, I do seriously worry about the direction television is going (seriously, I do...I can indulge the crap and still be wary of its effect on society, right?). With the push toward more reality-based programming and away from high production value, we are getting an endless slate of competitions and dating shows. They are so cheap to produce that the studios can just crank them out and see what sticks. No need to hire writers. No need to create. Just can, package, and send. And these "actors" aren't covered by any of the labor laws that SAG actors are, and you just know they are being exploited for every inch of entertainment they have in them.<br /><br />Maybe I'll feel better when the new seasons of <span style="font-style: italic;">Family Guy</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">American Dad</span> start up in October. (Either that or I will have to go back and start re-watching my DVDs of <span style="font-style: italic;">Northern Exposure</span>. How great was that show?)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Boat Repair 102: How to Employ the Skills of Others</span><br /><br />Since I know both of my readers also follow our boat blog, I don't need to say much here. How cool is the work Dear Old Dad is doing on the boat? I just wish he was also a diesel mechanic in his past. The drafting and carpentry skills will do. I guess.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">California is on Fire</span><br />This is what the scene looks like in Pasadena at the moment. The photo at the head of my last post is what it looked like 4 weeks ago. Take care SoCal folks. Try not to breathe too deeply.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvumdWja8EVBQr8HWrdGO3Rl1LOQLwKFpRRy1Va7GD1HzVArX98Up08q2FOcODd21_6Imy02P59sgNDItWcuBJfK4TG20CXi-4LowE46IK5B7eSqJ0l-5ITYqtbLOvy2CkWiJo/s1600-h/Pasadena.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvumdWja8EVBQr8HWrdGO3Rl1LOQLwKFpRRy1Va7GD1HzVArX98Up08q2FOcODd21_6Imy02P59sgNDItWcuBJfK4TG20CXi-4LowE46IK5B7eSqJ0l-5ITYqtbLOvy2CkWiJo/s400/Pasadena.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376159638583173554" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-7460499495628759162009-08-05T09:39:00.000-07:002009-08-05T10:03:42.544-07:00The Distant Future<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6OLU5QdmWT9smFcd_oCjgCl1JmnLiFWMja6namMIeb_IfXTXIGCZVXqhDp5uvkOYwzgEvXLUCklekhKBUPkyy020JEzgK-UuuGM8synZGwD-lBnLYzDpWa9foS-n8IfEibT9/s1600-h/Oak+Knoll.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6OLU5QdmWT9smFcd_oCjgCl1JmnLiFWMja6namMIeb_IfXTXIGCZVXqhDp5uvkOYwzgEvXLUCklekhKBUPkyy020JEzgK-UuuGM8synZGwD-lBnLYzDpWa9foS-n8IfEibT9/s320/Oak+Knoll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366525823082890210" border="0" /></a><br />As we gear up and get ready to take Supervan on yet another epic adventure (Park City, Utah via Pasadena, California) I'm busily trying to get my body to accept running again, and reluctantly committing to a couple of races.<br /><br />Reluctantly? Well, yeah, because every time I commit to a big race ($$$) I break something or tear something, or do something to something.<br /><br />But the Tacoma Narrows Half Marathon was supposed to be the kick-off for my Seattle Marathon training, so I am officially in training mode now. I think. The next two weeks are important base mile weeks (I have to get my weekly mileage up to 30 or so pretty quickly) and we will be on the road.<br /><br />Pasadena is no problem. 5 days there is five days in what I consider Running Paradise. Neighborhood jaunts under huge shady oak trees, on wide well maintained sidewalks, misting sprinklers keeping all of those manicured lawns blazingly green...It really is hard to take.<br /><br />From there we will Supervan it to St George, Utah. I don't know how many of both of my readers have ever spent any time in St. George, but a running paradise it is not. My memory may be tainted, however, by the fact that I have only ever been there at the tail end of climbing trips in which I starved, froze, and almost died high up on a rock wall, tethered to a manic depressive formerly homeless poet. So, you know, maybe I wasn't thinking clearly.<br /><br />Anyway, after a long day of driving through the desert, I will have to force myself to get some miles in to keep up with the plan.<br /><br />From there to Park City, Utah. Lovely, amazing Park City. 6,900 feet of pure elevation. Ouch. Plus, it might be obvious to both of you that once you are in a mountain town like Park City, there aren't a lot of flat roads and trails to be found.<br /><br />Travel, elevation, and hills? Recipe for training success.<br /><br />Still, I'm determined. We'll see if the miles stack up.<br /><br />Anyhoooo, the current plan is to run a few smaller races (including the Super Jock n Jill Half Marathon on Labor Day) leading up to the November 29th Seattle Marathon. Then we are looking for a late winter, early spring race to travel to. It seems like Pasadena or LA are the likely candidates at this point. Stay tuned.<br /><br /><br />In other news, work on the <a href="http://capedory27.blogspot.com/">New Old Boat</a> is starting to happen. We're at the stage where we are doing more damage than good, but there is a distinct possibility that someday this boat will sail, with us aboard...GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-47442868040834359982009-08-02T11:57:00.000-07:002009-08-02T12:56:46.369-07:00Whose Destiny Are We Talking About Here?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmvSiBzGK1Ity5O7jFkSkXwiHFr1TOAtpvUyk1uXEydflXBxXeJfov6vcl-IsBFajsP8JZ2PDhjKHElT_V13IC2S0-abpCHR-U2jQ9x86h4gnJEU7bBIdm46iY7WQBo7aWAKg/s1600-h/tacoma_like_sign"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmvSiBzGK1Ity5O7jFkSkXwiHFr1TOAtpvUyk1uXEydflXBxXeJfov6vcl-IsBFajsP8JZ2PDhjKHElT_V13IC2S0-abpCHR-U2jQ9x86h4gnJEU7bBIdm46iY7WQBo7aWAKg/s320/tacoma_like_sign" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365443516891490642" border="0" /></a>Tacoma calls itself the City of Destiny. I don't know what that means, exactly. Since I can remember, Tacoma has been the joke of the Puget Sound. Dirty, crime-infested, ugly, and decidedly a "drive through" sort of place. You drive through Tacoma on your way to Anywhere Else, USA. I can count the number of times I've actually spent any real minutes or hours in Tacoma on one hand. A couple of concerts at the Tacoma Dome back in the 90s (anyone remember when the pyrotechnics at the AC/DC show set the wooden ceiling on fire?), a conference for work, and most recently a surprise trip to see Billy Collins. So signing up for the Tacoma Narrows Half Marathon had very little to do with the city itself. Truth is, I saw that Cap'n Ron had signed up and figured, what the hell? I'm out of shape and recovering from surgery. I've been on the road for most of the summer. I haven't trained over 6 miles since May. Sounds like a recipe for success to me! So I signed up and started rationalizing. Like I do.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I can just take it easy and use it as a long run."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I can run-walk it."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"If I crash and have to walk in, no big woop."</span><br /><br />And with that cycle running through my head, I started my intense training regimen, which included not running at all in the days leading up to the race, drinking PBR in the sun at <a href="http://capedory27.blogspot.com/">The Boat Yard</a>, and drinking wine with The Colleague at the Lyle Lovett concert the night before the race. Oh, and let's not forget a nice big helping of Pad Thai at midnight before the race. This is some good training and preparation.<br /><br />Let me also say that if given the choice, I'd rather wake up in my own bed on race day. But when this means an alarm going off in my ear at 4:30 a.m., the benefits of sleeping at home are questionable. At best. I think The Colleague summed it up pretty well when the alarm went off to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10BbpGKLXqk">Midnight Oil's "Beds are Burning"</a>:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"What the hell?!"</span><br /><br />Exactly.<br /><br />Keeping to my rigorous preparation plans, I had half a glass of water and part of a NutriGrain bar (mixed berry, for those of you keeping score), and when Cap'n Ron pulled up at 5:00, I was "ready" to roll.<br /><br />After the drive and a parking fiasco, we met up with First Time Half Marathoner Friend and shuttled a car to the starting line across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HxTZ446tbzE&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HxTZ446tbzE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Of course, they have rebuilt the bridge a couple of times since it crashed down in 1940. But still, when you think Tacoma Narrows, you think "bridge collapse in wind storm" don't you? Maybe it's just me. Anyway, after the requisite milling about and waiting in impossibly long Honey Bucket lines, we got onto the course (10 minutes late...do races EVER start on time?)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzkKEBt2EtKrpmjNocJm_g9NB_e-F4v4DMn8KPKkC7XlvufCtqqyrggCXGdOzOgIOowVo4OL-vNZQl_I5gQNBPsDyCCPQhtD-fJ00QoKvPlNEhyphenhyphenS8IHZ7nT2ZM_BSchrpucAm/s1600-h/NarrowsHalf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzkKEBt2EtKrpmjNocJm_g9NB_e-F4v4DMn8KPKkC7XlvufCtqqyrggCXGdOzOgIOowVo4OL-vNZQl_I5gQNBPsDyCCPQhtD-fJ00QoKvPlNEhyphenhyphenS8IHZ7nT2ZM_BSchrpucAm/s320/NarrowsHalf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365449671625200066" border="0" /></a><br />The race started at the Narrows Airport in a chilly sea fog, which once we started running was perfect, but standing around waiting for the start was miserable.<br /><br />With only 1000 participants, the start was easy and there was no jockeying for position or running room.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kudos #1: Starting on the runway at the airport is a good choice. Wide open running for everyone. </span><br /><br />At mile 2.5 the course hit the bridge, and the wide pedestrian path on the new span. Very nice! Though in the heavy fog the crossing was very eerie. I couldn't help think of the poor souls who have jumped to their deaths from the bridge as I ran over the top. Yikes. Don't look down, there be vertigo there.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kudos #2: Much of the run is on pedestrian and bike paths, with nice surfaces and no traffic. They had to close very few roads, which is always a nice way to run a race.</span><br /><br />After the bridge is the first real hill of the course, and it's a killer. Mile 4 goes up almost 300 feet from the end of the bridge through Veterans Park. I was holding a little under an 8:00 pace at this point, but that wasn't going to last long. The hill about killed me, and my meticulous planning and preparation forced me to stop at the Honey Bucket in the park. I lost almost 2 minutes there. Oh well. I wasn't looking for a PR here anyway, right?<br /><br />From there the course crosses Highway 16 on an overpass and enters a little middle class neighborhood for a 2 mile loop. An old couple sitting on their lawn drinking coffee were the only people awake and outside in the whole place. Hi folks. Why is it so quiet around here?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Criticism #1: Granted this isn't the race organizers' fault, but the course is lonely. There was almost no one out supporting the runners and once the field spread out, I was literally running alone most of the time. I don't know how to fix this.</span><br /><br />The course then picks up the very nice trail system through the west part of Tacoma. We did a little loop on the baseball diamond at Cheney Stadium, which was pretty cool, and then headed up the hill. And up the hill. And up the hill...<br /><br />At the starting line I listened to people talk about the course (in my intense preparation I neglected to look at the course map, naturally). I heard several people, including First Time Half Marathoner Friend say something like "After mile 10 it's all downhill to the finish."<br /><br />Bullshit. From mile 11.5 it's all downhill to the finish. Mile 10 is uphill.<br /><br />I was pushing by this point to keep a solid pace, counting on the downhill to save me from an epic bonk. But the trail we were on near the golf course kept going up.<br /><br />And then when it did go down, it went STRAIGHT down.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Criticism #2: Steep downhills are worse than steep uphills. There has to be a way to keep the two steep descents out of this course. They're actually a little dangerous because they come late in the race when legs are fatigued. I know how to fix this. </span><br /><br />If one looks at my GPS track really closely, he or she will see at mile 11.5 a little hitch, where your hero made a dash behind some poor industrial building to approximate the second Honey Bucket stop, sans Honey Bucket. I hear you can get a ticket for "Depositing Human Waste in Public" but given the loneliness of the course (see above) I was in no danger of my transgression being discovered.<br /><br />After that I did my best to kick to the finish, and actually had a great time doing it. I caught up with a runner I had been sort of near since the start and we agreed to race to the finish. Last I checked, Tony and I were running a 5:40 pace to the finish line, and according to the official results I got him by 1 second.<br /><br />I finished, took off my chip (minor complaint: I hate ankle chips. They chafe and bother me throughout the run. Can we please stick to the shoelace chips, folks?), and got my finishing prize: a nice pint glass with the race logo on it. All around me I heard the sound of smashing glass on the pavement. Maybe handing out glassware to sweaty, dehydrated, fatigued finishers of a half marathon isn't the best plan? Still, it's a cool glass and is far more useful than a finisher's medal.<br /><br />By my watch I came in at 1:46: 51. By the chip I came in at 1:48:36. I don't know how the hell that happened, but I'm not going to protest. That's a little over an 8:00 pace, which is a full minute faster than I had any business running.<br /><br />Cap'n Ron came in a minute behind me at 1:49:41 and didn't break his pint glass either.<br /><br />First Time Half Marathoner Friend finished his first race at 2:22:32. A solid effort on a pretty hard course.<br /><br />We sleep-drove our way back north and refueled at The Ram in Northgate. They have both food AND beer there. What a concept. Putting back 1600 calories always feels good!<br /><br />Next up is the Super Jock and Jill Half Marathon on September 7th. I ran 1:33 there last year and like the course a lot, so we'll see.<br /><br />Then it's the Seattle Marathon on November 29th. Why do I do this?GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-18505797947421714352009-07-15T14:18:00.001-07:002009-07-16T16:08:32.691-07:00Where Does This Trail Go? Oh. Up? Right.Both of my readers should be happy to know that I am back from <a href="http://haydenandgreginkenya.blogspot.com/">Kenya</a>, in one piece, with no visible scars. So I have that going for me, which is nice.<br /><br />While in Kenya, my official "go ahead and start running again" date, set my Dr. (do-no) Harmon arrived. So, while in Malindi pigging out on fried potatoes and Tusker Lager, I laced up the Brooks and shuffled my feet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRK-1vWoYW0MHs6wHzy6wVyNY9Toa5OWZDOHmMJI3zLkKic7FI1_gX76t2h0pETkwrDuFsMjdpKx112BwvG-Kg6T1-JdJJgmcW8eqJalmAN3EkceM8m6wHLLOlpYJNTv2HCgr/s1600-h/Malindi_Beach_Run.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRK-1vWoYW0MHs6wHzy6wVyNY9Toa5OWZDOHmMJI3zLkKic7FI1_gX76t2h0pETkwrDuFsMjdpKx112BwvG-Kg6T1-JdJJgmcW8eqJalmAN3EkceM8m6wHLLOlpYJNTv2HCgr/s320/Malindi_Beach_Run.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358800330761025042" border="0" /></a>It wasn't much, but it was running. I left our luxurious digs at the Seaview Resort and headed south down the beach. Into a 25 knot headwind. On the soft sand. After a quarter mile or so, I was joined by a couple of beach boys, who were joined by a few of their friends, who invited a couple of their friends. By the time I reached the turnaround point I felt a little like Rocky running through the streets of Philly. Also I felt like a total spectacle for the entire community of Malindi. But I ran. Gotta start somewhere.<br /><br />In total I made three runs in Africa. All were painful. Who knew it was hot and windy and humid in equatorial Africa? Oh, everyone but me? Right. Even in Touristville, Africa, the locals are apparently not used to seeing an mzungu running on their red dirt roads.<br /><br />The hernia seems pretty well repaired, I'm happy to say (thanks Doc). Still some soreness during the first half mile or so of a run, and I can definitely feel it after, but if the pain of the actual hernia was an 8/10, we're talking more like a 2/10 now. No worse than a sore muscle. Which I also have...<br /><br />I write this from the frying pan that is Missoula, Montana. 100 degrees and not a breath of wind. I've been trying to run in the mornings before it gets too hot, and it's been pretty good, I must say.<br /><br />Missoula is a pretty cool town (but it's a little too proud of itself for my tastes) and in some ways it reminds me of Spokane but without the massive industrial blight. Living in Spokane I used to be able to walk across the street to rock climb, mountain bike, or kayak along the river. Here in Missoula, the wilderness trails come right to the edge of town, so I have been taking advantage of the off-road running opportunities.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKe_nL8DpxgBpdFHvkz4jglTUfO2qoCuuT7LeiT0bTDDWZfCCA6xCMQYMTbW3nqPPCB6LLOG6Qh9CNcBGgZ5b3Y5q5G6Nb1ulzTmkmsMw-XmP0G9M2ZcjnmCarKNWFFDuZ_HeO/s1600-h/Mt_Sentinel_Run.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKe_nL8DpxgBpdFHvkz4jglTUfO2qoCuuT7LeiT0bTDDWZfCCA6xCMQYMTbW3nqPPCB6LLOG6Qh9CNcBGgZ5b3Y5q5G6Nb1ulzTmkmsMw-XmP0G9M2ZcjnmCarKNWFFDuZ_HeO/s320/Mt_Sentinel_Run.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359197530531055970" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The paces are slow, but the distances are adding up, and I'm starting to feel like a runner again. Slowly by slowly. I imagine that training here on a regular basis would make running flat routes at sea level more manageable, but I don't have the constitution to keep forcing myself through runs with elevation profiles like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdVfm70T1hxqjDauAUvJeqDxztMKZCRMm6w669hOB7KxSEIkQFVqP3PCTbQtY-0y-r07rHkGzIRLzr82M0GgiOUtmK97BS77R9E29gsq7QC4FegBWxsx_Fm5x4a6S-x_1PBaO/s1600-h/Mt_Sentinel_Elevation.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdVfm70T1hxqjDauAUvJeqDxztMKZCRMm6w669hOB7KxSEIkQFVqP3PCTbQtY-0y-r07rHkGzIRLzr82M0GgiOUtmK97BS77R9E29gsq7QC4FegBWxsx_Fm5x4a6S-x_1PBaO/s320/Mt_Sentinel_Elevation.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198160635755378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />BREAKING NEWS: Cap'n Ron and I will drag our butts around the Tacoma Narrows Half Marathon Course on August 1st. Looks like a hard course, actually, but it will be nice to get another free $90 technical t-shirt...GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-24013667026295128102009-06-19T12:32:00.000-07:002009-06-19T12:37:43.034-07:00We're Off<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtVn5TfY-9Z0wxK48i1M24Cvm-UNWX1dhwHq35WsObzxrgl1M2tVNtuus74pmG7AZawzAEl-RlhKezXF70dS8Hfy3MIe-WH29A4cC8SyW8Z8i1dAh1dBsQfyu_IZxwtbPmu40/s1600-h/kenya_map.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtVn5TfY-9Z0wxK48i1M24Cvm-UNWX1dhwHq35WsObzxrgl1M2tVNtuus74pmG7AZawzAEl-RlhKezXF70dS8Hfy3MIe-WH29A4cC8SyW8Z8i1dAh1dBsQfyu_IZxwtbPmu40/s320/kenya_map.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349125060936558450" border="0" /></a><br />I've packed all I can pack (The Colleague packed a little more) and we're getting ready for 20 stimulating hours flying coach to Kenya!<br /><br />My official Dr. Hilarious approved start date for resuming training is July 1st, which means the first miles of my new training plan will be on the red dirt of East Africa! I've heard that some people there are pretty good runners...<br /><br />Be excellent to each other in my absence.<br /><br />We'll be blogging the trip at <a href="http://haydenandgreginkenya.blogspot.com/">http://haydenandgreginkenya.blogspot.com/</a>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596494.post-16153834436151767312009-05-28T10:15:00.000-07:002009-05-28T11:22:55.994-07:00Surgery, the Letter H, and Boat Work<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5TjtZ-_nKGzGVfjrqIDiYPsoVtkLn4a4WNV3OzfW9hLvOIr1MpkNJ_g4UUF3KIxz67NDMIOuCreeAiVgXkxEdwlctmSiQfbKvjBKOlaWBlPsbbtX4Xa6JuSPzoG4tatAgM1_/s1600-h/hernia_tools.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5TjtZ-_nKGzGVfjrqIDiYPsoVtkLn4a4WNV3OzfW9hLvOIr1MpkNJ_g4UUF3KIxz67NDMIOuCreeAiVgXkxEdwlctmSiQfbKvjBKOlaWBlPsbbtX4Xa6JuSPzoG4tatAgM1_/s320/hernia_tools.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340932559703906738" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Getting Cut Open and Stitched Back Together</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Pre-Op</span><br />There are three holes in my lower abdomen that weren't there yesterday. I've been told that there is also a fair amount of surgical mesh covering the holes in abdominal muscles. Oh, and some staples and stitches too.<br /><br />All of this from running. And all of this so I can run again. Soon, I hope.<br /><br />Dr. Hilarious, aware of my fondness for medical practitioners who share my follicle challenges and who have ironic names, referred me to a Dr. Harmon. Of course.<br /><br />So Do-no-Harmon met with me last week to talk through the surgery.<br /><br />Main Points:<br />-He does hundreds of these surgeries a year. He's never killed anyone.<br />-<a href="http://www.cheltenhamvascularunit.co.uk/laphernia.html">Laparoscopic surgery</a>: In through the belly button with a scope, and with the tools on either side of the lower abdomen.<br />-No one knows the frequency of recurrence after surgery, because dudes are stupid. Chances are that a lot of guys who suffer a recurrence blame the surgeon and go to someone else.<br />-Rather than stitching muscle together, surgical mesh is stretched over the giant, gaping hole in my gut and the muscle is supposed to grow over it. After 2 weeks, the mesh is 75% covered. At 3 weeks, 95%.<br />-It's gonna hurt.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Day of Operation</span><br />Just in case I died on the table, The Colleague and I met some former students of mine for what I want my last meal to be: sushi. As much as possible. As fresh as possible. After that, it was no food or drink after midnight.<br /><br />So, Dr. <span style="font-weight: bold;">H</span>ilarious referred me to Dr. <span style="font-weight: bold;">H</span>armon. The Colleague (<span style="font-weight: bold;">h</span>) drove me to the surgery center, where the anesthesiologist (Dr. <span style="font-weight: bold;">H</span>ardy) gave me the drugs.<br /><br />General anesthesia has to be one of the weirdest experiences a person can have.<br /><br />Dr. Hardy says, "Ok, you're going to get a little woozy." Next thing I know I'm waking up in a different room. 2 hours went by. Dr. do-no Harmon cut into me and stitched me back together while a med student watched the show. And I woke up like not one second passed. 2 hours gone.<br /><br />By the time I saw The Colleague again, I was pretty much ready to roll. I wasn't babbling like a drugged up lunatic (though apparently I asked for the anesthesiologist's name at some point...what the hell?), I didn't ask anyone to marry me, and as far as I know I didn't embarrass myself.<br /><br />I went into the surgery center at 8:30 a.m. and was home in bed by 1:00 p.m. Not bad.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The Day After</span><br />The Colleague is off for an oil-baroness meeting in Montana today, so I am at The Shack tending to myself, trying to move around as much as possible, and thinking about getting some work done, though concentration is not my strong suit at the moment. I sent one work-related email this morning that I probably shouldn't have. I'll wait until I'm off the dope to do anything else in that arena.<br /><br />They ask you to measure pain on a scale of 1-10. Ok. At the moment, even with the narcotics, we're talking about a 5. Without? Not good.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">One Other Thing</span><br /><ul><li>We started actual work on the Cape Dory last weekend. Check it out: <a href="http://capedory27.blogspot.com">http://capedory27.blogspot.com</a></li></ul>GVBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17405277527687492216noreply@blogger.com0